


Wanna bet?

by 100hearteyes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke is strong and oblivious, Clexa, F/F, I think it's fluffy?, Lexa is broody and adorable, Like really slow, Raven is bae, Slow Burn, Stuff happens, like I'm not even kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:39:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 129,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4642692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100hearteyes/pseuds/100hearteyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa and Clarke don't really fancy each other much. One of them is cold and rude, the other is sarcastic and imposing.</p><p>Throw in a group assignment, two very different reactions to break-ups and Raven and Octavia's terrible advice, and you got yourself a recipe for disaster.</p><p>Or maybe something else entirely?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the cheaters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello! So this is something I've been wanting to do for a long time.  
> I have a general idea of how I want this to go but more will be defined as I write.
> 
> This is more of a prologue, setting the characters for where they will be during the story. The actual thing will be happier than this so bear with me for a little while :P
> 
> Hope you like it!

#### April 2013

 “What do you mean, it’s over?”

Lexa was standing in the middle of the porch, staring at her girlfriend, too shocked to feel anything at all.

Costia took Lexa’s hand in hers, covering it with the other, eyes filled with tears.

“Lexi, I… I made a mistake.”

“And I forgave you.”

“You didn’t,” Costia chuckled sadly. “I know you think you did, I truly believe you do. But I can see it in your eyes… I can hear it in your voice… Each time I go out, there’s this intense worry that next time we talk we will both be in tears and one of us will be leaving the other.”

“And here we are,” Lexa ended coldly, opening her arms as to make the situation they were in evident and letting them fall on her sides again.

“No, this is me letting you go. Setting you free.”

“Is that not the same thing?”

Costia sighed. She never expected it to be this hard. She moved past Lexa, taking her by the hand, and sat on the steps. Lexa sat down beside her.

“My love has made you weak, Lexa. Vulnerable. You used to be so strong… But since that day when I told you I’d cheated on you — and I don’t regret telling you because I know it was the right thing to do, you were never the same.”

“That is not true.”

“Yes, it is and you know it. Your grades lowered, your relationship with your family became bitter, you barely spend any time with Anya or Lincoln anymore because you’re afraid that if you leave my side for one second I will stray again,” the English girl reasoned. “It’s suffocating you as well as me, we no longer banter like we used to and it stopped being healthy ages ago. I’ve made you unhappy and I just can’t live with that.”

Lexa turned her head to her girlfriend, looking her in the eyes.

“You make me happy, Costia.”

“To an extent, yes. But you’re also in pain because deep down you know you don’t trust me. And I can’t really scold you for that but I can’t help being gutted that you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Look me in the eye and say that, Lexa. Say it like you mean it.”

Lexa tried. She looked in her girlfriend’s eyes, intent on saying it, and opened her mouth. But she didn’t manage to let out any sound at all and her stare averted to the ground.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Lexi.”

The brunette stared back at Costia with renewed intensity and raised a hand to stroke the beautiful and soft dark skin in her arm.

“I love you.”

The other girl sighed dejectedly.

“I fancy you. A lot. I might even love you still. And maybe that’s why I am letting you go.”

“Because your love made me weak?” Lexa asked dryly.

“Love makes us all weak. Sometimes, when it's meant to be, it also makes us stronger. It’s a dodgy paradox,” Costia chuckled, misery in her eyes. “But the way I made you love me, lowering your walls just to stab you in the heart right after and then forcing you to keep the gates open…”

She kissed Lexa’s cheek, the last souvenir of a relationship long gone, before concluding:

“That kind of love is weakness.”

 

* * *

 

####  October 2014

“Clarke, please...”

“Just fuck off!”

Clarke was walking furiously down the stairs and to the door with him and the other girl in tow.

“Clarke, please, I swear this was the last time,” he begged, grabbing her arm.

She quickly yanked it out of his reach.

“The last time?” she fumed. “Really, Finn? The last time? There shouldn’t have even been a first time, or a second, or a third!”

“I’m weak…”

“No, Finn. You’re a pig.”

“It meant nothing, Clarke! Besides, it’s not my fault that you took so fucking long to _finally_ consider having sex!” he whined. “And that at the same time, Raven the slut here thinks about nothing else!”

“Hey! I’m in the room, asshole,” Raven barked. “And I like having sex, so what? The only slut I see here is you. You're the one that had a girlfriend and still couldn’t keep it in their pants.”

Clarke picked up her keys from the bowl, opening the door. That afternoon had gone horribly wrong. After three months of wanting to take it slow, Clarke had finally decided to give in and surprise Finn. There was no way around it: she wanted him. She really, really liked him too. Hell, she was actually starting to love him. So knowing he would be home all day, she had decided to show up unannounced and give him an afternoon to remember.

That was, until she opened his bedroom door and found him rolling Raven’s shirt up and off her head. The girl had been the first to see Clarke at the door, face ashen and body shivering violently. Raven had stopped immediately, as confused as Clarke was mad. And then it all had made sense and she had pushed Finn off herself and called out after her friend, who had already turned away, trying to get out of there as fast as she could. Unfortunately, Finn had outrun Raven to Clarke’s side, not giving the soon-to-be mechanic the chance to explain herself.

“Clarke, please, don't leave me. I love you.”

Raven glared at him and then looked back at Clarke, seeing the tears cloud her eyes. That was a low move. An ‘I love you’ right after cheating on her with her clueless best friend. Finn really was a pig. Without another word, Clarke left the house, slamming the door behind her. Raven ran to follow her.

“Clarke, please, you have to believ—“

“Fine! You know what? I don’t fucking care!”

Raven sighed in exasperation at the interruption. Finn had opened his door and was yelling at the street, insulting them in the process.

“I can get any girl I want anyway! And you're a fucking bore!”

Clarke crossed the street and entered her car, not daring to look back. Raven didn’t waste any time and took the passenger seat before her friend could say anything. Clarke just ignored her presence and drove away, determined to make a silent drive home. Raven, however, wanted to make things clear first.

“Clarke, honestly, I had no idea—“

“Save it.”

“You have to believe me, Clarke! I never imagined… You said you had a boyfriend but you always kept it under wraps…”

“Because I wanted to take it carefully.” Clarke was seething. "He had cheated on me and other girls already, can't blame me for playing it safe."

“I know and I’m not saying it was your fault, there’s only one person to blame in this whole mess and that person is fucking Finn,” Raven explained. “But naturally, I had no way to know it was him, did I?”

Clarke pulled to the curb. They were home. Raven was not entering that house without coming clean to Clarke first.

“You never gave us a name or a picture or a hint… Then again, this is _not_ your fault. But I had no clue who he was. I mean, you did say his name started with an ‘f’ and maybe his stupid fuckboy smile should've been a red flag but the asshole said he was single and I believed him and I had never seen you two together and—“

She was interrupted by a tight hug. It meant Clarke forgave her, which was honestly all she wanted after being caught red-handed with the blonde's boyfriend. Not that she even knew he was her boyfriend, but it was still a horrible situation.

Raven melted into the hug, wrapping her arms around her best friend, feeling the tears sting her eyes.

“I just hate that I hurt you so much,” she whispered, voice weak.

Clarke pulled away with a sad smile and stroked Raven’s cheeks, something they always did when one of them or Octavia, their other friend, was sad.

“I just hate that _he_ hurt us so much,” she answered. “And I hate that I let him hurt me yet again.”

Raven pulled her friend into another tight hug.

“You were in love with him,” she shrugged when they parted. “He cheated on you more than once, but you were too in love with him to see things clearly. We tend to give the ones we love a hundred too many chances, always in hopes that this time they will finally change. And when they don’t, next time they will for sure and it just turns into a huge snowball because they keep on letting us down and we keep on giving them 'just one more chance' over and over again.”

Clarke smiled sadly at her friend again. She knew this was about Finn as much as it was about Raven’s mother, an alcoholic that kept on hopping from rehab centre to rehab centre like money to pay for those grew on trees and she didn’t have a daughter at home that needed her more than she would ever admit.

“I did keep on holding it off, though,” she lamented.

“No, Clarke. You were going at your own rhythm and if he couldn’t respect that then he didn’t deserve you. He’s a fucking pig.”

“And you are _not_ a slut, Raven.”

Raven replied with a proud grin, wiping the tears with the back of her hands. “I know.” She was way too self-confident to be brought down by such a dim-witted insult.

“Am I a bore, though?” Raven laughed out loud, unsettling Clarke. “What? This is a legitimate question, Reyes.”

“Oh I know.” The blonde rolled her eyes, which only motivated Raven to continue: “You are a bit of a buzz kill but Finn called you that for the wrong reason. Waiting to have sex is not being boring; it’s being faithful to yourself. To each their own, some take more time, some don’t. No one is anymore of a bore or a slut for their decision, whatever it may be.”

Clarke was still looking at her, slightly puzzled.

“So I’m not a bore for holding off sex… But I’m still a bore?”

“Pretty much, Griff.”

Clarke responded by flipping the bird at her best friend. Raven laughed and stopped abruptly after a couple of seconds, seeming to remember something.

“You know what I could really use right now?”

“What?”

“Some Tay Tay,” Raven said with a sly smile. “One song especially seems to be perfect for today’s events.”

Clarke nodded, knowing what she was talking about. Raven plugged her iPod to the car’s music player and after the initial strums of the guitar, both girls started singing whole-heartedly to ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together'. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you liked it, cheers for reading it!
> 
> Like I said at the beginning of the chapter, this was more of a set-up, from now on it will be a little more light-hearted and of course you know my silly humour is always around the corner ;)
> 
> Oh and btw ignore my chapter titles for now, still working on them.


	2. the darers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa rarely ate her lunch at the cafeteria. She found socialising with other people other than her own a complete waste of time. It was her friends she cared about and took care of, not the hundreds of mindless kids that, totally unrelated to the topic in question, annoyed the burning hell out of her.
> 
> More so when it came to Clarke Griffin. Lexa had never spoken with the blonde — for two very specific reasons.
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke has a cool hobby and Lexa has a crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> I'm sorry for taking so long to update, had an eye surgery so at first I couldn't see shit and then I couldn't look at screens, doctor's orders. Technically still can't but what the doctor doesn't know can't hurt me, right? ;)  
> So I hope you like this chapter :)

Clarke walked quickly out of the house, still buttoning her pants and tank top sloppily on. A girl followed her with shoes in her arms and an angry expression on her face. 

“And don’t…” she threw one shoe at Clarke, “fucking,” there was the second one, “come back!”

Just when Clarke thought the girl had run out of things to throw at her, her jacket hit her right in the face.

“I said I was sorry, Janice,” she begged just for show. There was no way she was going inside that house again.

“It’s Monica!”

With that, the girl turned her back on the blonde, got back inside and slammed the door behind her.

Clarke only had to wait for a couple of minutes for a black jeep to round the corner of the street and stop right in front of her. A door opened and Octavia was gesturing her to get in the car.

“Hop on, Griff!”

Clarke did as she was told, slouching down on the passenger seat. Octavia didn’t waste any time and drove away.

“So how did you get rid of this one? Wait, let me guess!” the younger girl added quickly before Clarke had a chance to answer, “The name mix-up!”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

“Your tank top is backwards, meaning you didn’t even have time to actually look at it while you put it on before she kicked you out of the house. That level of anger only happens when you get their names wrong.”

Octavia beamed; she was clearly proud of her own deduction abilities. She drove into the highway.

“Alright, Sherlock, now keep your eyes on the road, I have better things to do today than die. But good one,” Clarke conceded.

She then leaned to turn on the radio and pick the station, but was surprised by Octavia’s hand turning it off again. The blonde clenched her jaw; she knew what this meant. She knew what was coming. It was _the talk_.

 _Just do it quickly_ , she thought. _Like a band-aid_. Octavia sighed and looked sternly at her. It was not going to be quick. 

“Look, Clarke, you know…” she was looking for words, “You know you’re not more or less fun or boring for doing this, right?” Clarke shrugged, clearly not in the mood for that conversation. “We love you and have fun with you whatever you do.”

“You were the one that made the bet with me, remember?”

“Yes, but— look, I just think maybe it’s time to move on from what Finn did to you.”

“I have,” Clarke retorted. “Several times. One of them was this morning and believe me, it was some of the best moving on I’ve done in ages.”

“I’m not judging you, Clarke.”

“Well it does seem like you are.”

Time to leave the highway. Octavia signalled her way out and turned right, heading to the city.

“Like you just said, I made the bet with you. It’s fun. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“I’m happy.”

“Well then I am too,” Octavia grinned widely and stopped the jeep. “Now get your ass out of my car, you reek of sex and it’s annoying because I haven’t had any action in a week.”

Both girls left the car, walking to the building side by side.

“Lincoln still undecided?” Clarke asked with an eye roll.

“He says he doesn’t want to rush things and hurt me,” Octavia grunted. “Says his past makes him a monster.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah that’s what I told him. But he’s so… pure and genuine and good it’s disgusting. He actually believes that crap.”

They got to the building and Octavia entered first, holding the door behind for Clarke, who followed. They headed to the elevators.

“I don’t understand,” Clarke exasperated. “One minute he’s best boyfriend material and the other he’s afraid to commit? It’s like he’s two different people.”

“Bet it was his bitch friend of his, the one with a stick up her ass. She’s probably in love with him.”

The elevator doors opened with a ding and both girls entered it.

“Who, the blonde one?”

“No, the one I haven’t met yet and don’t even know the name of but Linc is always talking about. ‘My best friend this, my best friend that’,” she mocked Lincoln’s voice with annoyance.

The elevator came to a halt, the doors opened and they left into the hallway, walking towards their flat.

Octavia continued: “He’s lucky I really like him otherwise I would’ve dumped his toned ass a long time ago.”

Clarke got her keys out and inserted them in the lock.

“Sorry to tell you O, but you’re too deep into him already,” she said, opening the door and entering the house.

“I know!” Octavia whined while she followed Clarke into the house. The door shut behind them at her push.

 

//

 

Clarke knew, as soon as she chose majors, that she was screwed. Her mother wanted her to take Political Science, she was convinced Clarke would one day be Mayor of their town like herself for the past two years and maybe climb the leader ladder to become a Senator. Clarke was obviously not sold on that, besides she always liked the idea of becoming a doctor like Abby was before becoming Mayor. Finally, she couldn’t really let go of her love of drawing and art. End result: a double major in Political Science and History of Art plus a minor in Philosophy with classes during winter and summer vacations to prepare her for Med Schol.

 Polis University, one of the best in the country and with astounding variety of courses to offer, had accepted her application. Now here Clarke was, one year and meticulous planning out later, half of her prerequisites knocked out and taking handpicked classes that would allow her to go to Med School and one day become a doctor.

She was an amazing student, top of every class in History of Art and Philosophy. Not in Political Science, though. That title was for Alexandria Woods, a girl Clarke had barely ever talked to (had she at all?) but already highly disliked. Not because the brunette was unpleasant — which she was — but because she was so good at everything PoliSci and annoyingly nonchalant about it.

Alexandria, Clarke had learned, was taking the PoliSci Major, plus an International Security option and a Minor in Philosophy. Yes, that one exactly — the same one as Clarke. And oh was the blonde happy about it because it was her chance to beat the stuck up bitch at every course they shared. Clarke was not competitive; she just loved winning. A LOT.

“Yo Princess, you listening?”

 A startled Clarke turned her head to Octavia. “What?”

They were in the cafeteria, a large dining hall with dozens of tables and hundreds of students that didn’t seem to be able to eat quietly. Two of those were Clarke’s own Raven and Octavia.

The younger brunette rolled her eyes in response. “I asked you if you wanted to join us for girls’ night tomorrow. Explosions here says she has some casual hooking up to do.”

 “Shut up O,” Raven sneered back. “But yeah, I urgently need some action. So you coming?” 

Clarke shrugged, undecided. She weighed her options: studying ahead for PoliSci (she was more than comfortable at HoA and Philosophy) or having some fun?

“Come on Griff,” Raven pleaded. “Remember you still have that bet with O.”

“Yeah and I’m well ahead. Fifty people in six months, she dared me? One month in and I’ve already gotten in twenty pairs of pants.”

“Fucking overachiever,” O grunted.

“But I’ll go,” Clarke declared, deciding that beating Alexandria was not worth wasting a fun night.

The other two high fived each other.

“Where are the guys, by the way?” Raven asked.

At that moment, a group of almost ten people crossed the cafeteria with their food trays filled, looking for a table. At the front, as if she was leading them, a girl with a mane of braded brown hair and aggressive green eyes, the only one without a food tray. She was the smallest of all but her fierceness made that unnoticeable.

“Oh look,” Octavia mocked to her friends, “It’s Alexandria and her lackeys.”

“It’s only been a month since the year started and they already walk around in a clique like they’re still in high school,” Raven despised.

“That Tristan guy is a nice fuck,” Clarke noted.

The other two looked at her, wide-eyed.

“You didn’t!” Raven laughed, to which Clarke grinned.

“ Oh I did. Rivo and Ryder though… I’ve had much better.”

“Wait that makes twenty-three after all!” Octavia exclaimed.

“Those were side fucks but you can add them if you want,” Clarke shrugged with a smirk, leaning back on her chair. “Twenty-seven to go then.”

They saw Alexandria point at their table and leave the group. Then the seven friends, a perfect match for the empty seats beside the trio, approached their table.

“Are they coming over here?” Raven asked, stressing out. “Why are the guys late today of all days?!”

“Clarke can’t you tell them to go away?” Octavia asked. “You’re in the bitch’s classes, they might listen to you.”

“I’ve never talked to her! Doubt she even knows I exist!”

Seconds later, the group of seven sat down at the table without so much as acknowledging Clarke, Raven and Octavia’s presence. Only Rivo and Ryder exchanged looks and a nod with the blonde.

Suddenly, everyone was out of air and space, the women sandwiched among the burly men. Even Alexandria’s girlfriends seemed uncomfortable.

Only then did Octavia notice who the tall, blonde-ish girl with sharp cheekbones that was sitting beside Clarke and across Raven was.

“Wait, you’re Anya!”

Anya turned her attention to the small girl with a jaded expression. A spark of recognition ignited in her eyes, replaced by annoyance right away.

“And you’re Lincoln’s new toy,” she answered.

It was Raven’s time to intervene, as always in the snarkiest way possible: “Hey! Show some respect, dirty blonde!”

“ _What?_ ” Anya snapped back.

“Just shut up, everyone!”

Everyone looked at Clarke in surprise. “Just eat your meals in silence and maybe that way we can all get rid of each other faster.”

Anya stared at Clarke and then at Raven, who met her eyes with a smirk. For once, Anya couldn’t think of a comeback or a way to scare off the girl. She just looked back at her plate and started eating decidedly, her group following her lead.

Clarke started eating too and gestured at Raven and Octavia to do the same.

Moments later, Alexandria showed up at the cafeteria, walking into the university and not bothering to approach or even look at the table.

Her group saw her and stood up immediately, walking to meet her. One of them, though, stayed behind and walked to Clarke with a sly smile. She had deep black and light blue eyes.

The girl took out a pen from her back pocket and grabbed Clarke’s hand, scribbling something on the palm. She winked and turned away, joining her group, where Alexandria was awaiting her with an eye roll and clenched jaw.

By Clarke’s side, Raven and Octavia had their eyes wide and their jaws fallen on the table in front of them. The blonde looked back at them and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Still got game,” she beamed.

 

****

 

Lexa rarely ate her lunch at the cafeteria. She found socialising with other people other than her own a complete waste of time. It was her friends she cared about and took care of, not the hundreds of mindless kids that, totally unrelated to the topic in question, annoyed the burning hell out of her.

More so when it came to Clarke Griffin. Lexa had never spoken with the blonde — for two very specific reasons.

Firstly, Clarke annoyed her to the moon and back. Always loud and overly friendly and so, so, _so_ competitive. She couldn’t even hide her annoyance when Lexa got a higher mark than her; likewise, she didn’t even try to hide her happiness when she beat Lexa. And Lexa, despite not considering herself competitive, didn’t like to lose either — and loved winning, especially if it meant beating Clarke.

The second reason was one Lexa would never admit to anyone or even herself: she had a minor crush on Clarke Griffin. How could she help it though? The blonde was stunning: her blue eyes were as immense as oceans whenever Lexa let herself get lost in them; her hair had certainly been crafted by the hands of Apollo himself; her face, oh her face. What an impeccable nose, what a regal chin, what a wonderful smile.

For that reason, Lexa never talked to her and fed her own annoyance towards the blonde. She couldn’t afford to develop that crush; she couldn’t afford to get closer to her. She couldn’t afford to even risk falling in love.

_Love is weakness._

That and the fact that she seldom ate at the cafeteria was why she had not sat at Clarke and her friends’ table at lunch that day.

Now she was walking home with Anya, Luna, Echo, Caris and Emori and all of them (except for Anya, who was suspiciously quiet) were in awe of Clarke Griffin’s attitude earlier today. Lexa was getting a headache from hearing about how ‘brave’ and ‘authoritative’ and — had she heard it right? — ‘sexy’ the blonde was.

“Can we please change topics?” Lexa asked with an eye roll.

“Don’t worry, Commander, we’re not replacing you,” Luna mocked. “But I might invite her to Nyko’s party tomorrow.”

“What?!”

Every head turned to Anya, who seemed unfazed by it.

“I’m just saying,” the blonde explained, “why would you invite those walking tiaras?”

“They’re not that bad, you know,” Echo chimed in. “Lincoln likes Octavia. And they were pretty nice to me when I was dating her brother Bellamy.”

“Yeah well, let’s forget that period of your life when you thought dating one of the rich kids was a good idea, okay?” Anya darted back.

“Whatever.”

“What’s so wrong with dating one of them?” Luna asked, knowing that anything she did would have to have her friends’ approval.

It was time for every head to turn in her direction.

“You want to _date_ one of them?” Anya asked.

“Well you heard yourselves. Clarke Griffin is a catch.” Lexa turned her stare back to street in front of her just as fast as she had turned it to Luna. “Like I said: I want to ask her to come with me to the party tomorrow.”

“I don’t like it… But do whatever you want,” Anya groaned.

Echo, Caris and Emori hummed in accordance. Then everyone looked at Lexa, who only noticed their stares several seconds later.

“What?”

“Is it alright if I ask Clarke Griffin to come with me to the party?”

“Luna, what you do is none of my business,” Lexa said. “Why would I have anything against it? Besides, I am not coming to the party.”

“Bullshit, Lexa,” Anya called out. “You have studied all you needed already. You’re coming.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Anyway, do whatever you want, Luna. One, I am not the boss of you. Two, I do not even know the girl.”

 

****

 

Clarke was seating on the couch, Raven’s legs on her lap, watching television. A Baywatch rerun was playing on the screen.

“What a classic,” Raven commented.

Clarke grinned. “Pamela’s boobs are a classic."

She then heard her phone vibrate and reached for it in a flash.

 

**Luna [19:55]: Hey sexy, party tomorrow night at a friend’s, want to come?**

**Clarke [20:02]: my friends will kill me if I don’t bring them along.**

**Luna [20:05]: Bring them, the more the merrier :)**

 

At that moment, Octavia walked from the kitchen to the leaving room.

“Hey assholes, Lincoln invited me to his friend Nyko’s party tomorrow,” she announced. “You’re my DD Ray.” Raven flipped her off. ”As for you, Clarkey… You’re my other DD.”

“You need two Designated Drivers?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh no, you’re my Designated Drinker.”

The blonde facepalmed.

 

**Luna [20:11]: So… Is that a no or a yes?**

**Clarke [20:13]: wait is your friend Lincoln’s friend Nyko?**

**Luna [20:15]: I’m guessing Linc invited you all too?**

**Clarke [20:17]: you’re guessing it right ;) and it’s a fat YES**

**Luna [20:20]: Great :) see you tomorrow lovely**

“I got an invitation to that party too,” Clarke bragged. “From Luna.”

Raven and Octavia raised their eyebrows.

“The girl at the cafeteria?” the engineer asked. “That hangs out with that bitch Alexandria?”

“That one exactly.”

Raven high fived her. “Nice, Griffin.”

“You’re still DD, Raven.”

“Screw you guys.”

Clarke actually wanted to go to the party. Her bet with Octavia motivated her but it was just a means of having fun — and therefore, though she hated admitting that to herself, proving Finn wrong.

Luna was pretty and apparently fun. Moreover, she seemed to want to have some fun, not be the feelings type.

Clarke ran from the feelings type like it was the plague. She wasn’t ready to trust anyone yet, not since Finn; and she doubted she would be ready anytime soon.

 

****

 

Two hours into the party, Lexa and her empty red cup were not having a good time.

Loud and uninteresting music was pumping from the speakers, filling the room with noise. Several people she didn't even know were dancing heartily, all of them either drunk, high or not afraid of embarrassment. Lexa was a sociable person if the situation called for it, she could be charming even, but right now she just wanted to go home. It didn't help that none of her friends were in sight.

Lincoln was busy eating that annoying girl Octavia up. Lexa had warned him about her, she was no good for him, just a rich girl who would use him and then throw him away like litter. But he was too deep up her ass to realise that and thus there they were, entangled in a corner competing for who could shove their tongue further down the other's throat.

Anya was ferociously trying to beat that Reyes girl at beer pong. If there was something that Anya could not stand, it was people that were smarter than her. Reyes seemed to be one of those, hence getting so much on the blonde's nerves. Lexa had told her to be careful, though. Those rich girls were no more than bad news.

Everyone else was either playing some dumb game, making out with random people or lying drunk on the floor. Well, everyone except for two people.

As soon as the blonde had arrived, Luna and Clarke had been nowhere to be seen. Lexa had seen Clarke get there, beautiful as always, radiant even. Then Luna had taken her hand and guided her God knows where. Lexa rolled her eyes, her typical way of waving off inconvenient thoughts.

A cup was put down on the sideboard Lexa was leaning against. She looked at the hand still holding it and her eyes trailed their way up to a smirking face. Lexa's eyes grew wide for a split second, her unreadable expression coming back immediately after.

"You're the one who has been bedding all my friends," she deadpanned.

"You're the one who has been leaving them alone with me," Clarke retorted. "Besides, I've done nothing they didn't want me to do."

"Fair point."

"Anyway, it's nice to finally meet you, Alexandria." Clarke extended her hand, hoping to at least set a bridge of civil communication between them.

Lexa looked at it with the rise of a haughty eyebrow and didn't bother shaking it. She stared back at Clarke. "The name is Lexa."

 "Lexa..." She liked the taste of the word in her mouth, how softly it rolled off her tongue.  _Lexa._

"Still waiting for this conversation to be interesting, Clarke."

"Still waiting for you to be interesting, Lexa."

The brunette looked at Clarke with a raised eyebrow. That was a challenge — now the ball was on her field. Leaving was a tempting offer too.

"I hear you are quite the player, Clarke."

The blonde raised her eyebrows in surprise. Lexa cursed herself mentally for that.

"I've got some moves," Clarke smirked. She pointed at the crowd dancing to some Kesha song. "I could get the numbers of five people in this room."

Lexa walked closer to her to the point where their bodies were almost touching.

"Prove it."

Clarke threw her a smug smile and walked away into the crowd. Lexa could see her joining people in their dance, putting an arm around them, wooing them with her words and her captivating smile. She felt something roaring in the pit of her stomach, telling her to stomp her way into the dance floor and take Clarke away from all those offending eyes. She shut her eyes hard, shooing those thoughts away.

After successfully acquiring two guys and a girl's numbers, Clarke disappeared for a moment. Lexa took that as her cue to leave.

 

****

 

Clarke was having a good night. She had got there with Raven and Octavia, who were already out and about doing their own thing.

Raven had finally found her wise-crack match in Anya, being busy competing against her at some silly game now. Octavia was alone with Lincoln. Clarke liked Lincoln, she thought he was good for her friend — but only if he stopped being so darn undecided.

As for Clarke herself, she had started the night fooling around with Luna, but had grown tired after a couple of hours. She had found Lexa then and their meeting was still in her head. That girl was so...  _rude_. Did she have a vengeance on life or something? Was she that unhappy that she had to be so unpleasant to everyone else? Lexa Woods already annoyed Clarke before that conversation, but now her annoyance was boundless.

But somehow, she had accepted the brunette's foolish challenge. Now she was walking around the room, getting random people's phone numbers and why? What was it that she wanted to prove this time? Whatever it was, it was motivation enough to make her do it. Her competitiveness was getting out of hand.

After easily getting five people's numbers, Clarke returned to the place where she had been talking to Lexa.

"Check this out, Lexa!" she boasted.

However, Lexa was no longer there. Instead, making out against the sideboard, there was a couple Clarke had never seen.

"Hey, have you seen Lexa?" she asked them.

Both girls just ignored her. Irritated, Clarke just threw the five pieces of paper on the floor and walked off looking for Luna.

She found the dark haired girl talking to some other girl Clarke did not know.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here?"

Luna looked her up and down with hungry eyes and smirked. "Thought you'd never ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well these two don't have the nicest opinion of each other, do they?  
> From now on I'll start posting these every Wednesday (every fortnight tops). You can go on Tumblr (or here) and kick my bottom if I don't abide
> 
> Btw I might be looking for a beta that can basically reread my chapters and tell me what works and what doesn't and I can discuss my ideas with. So if you're interested, give me a shout on Tumblr :)


	3. the dreamers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What… Why…” Clarke was so shocked she could barely form any words. “What are all these people doing here and why are you sitting next to me?”
> 
> Lexa raised an eyebrow.
> 
> “Do you not know what day it is today, Clarke?”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke finds a new distraction and Lexa never smiles

_Once upon a time, there was a star called Sun. She was feisty, passionate and very clever._

_Still, happiness and sadness were concepts she had never experienced and therefore did not understand._

_Sun had an intense but loveless affair with a silver-coloured planet called Moon. The two could only ever spend some hours of each day together, for the Sun has to set shortly after the Moon rises; and the Moon goes to sleep almost as soon as the Sun starts brightening up the sky._

_Moon suffered with that but Sun never really minded, as what she felt for her lover was not something she would be willing to bend the boundaries of night and day for._

_Then a new planet arrived. Her name was Earth. Ruthless, heroic and too passionate for her own good, Earth was not only beautiful but also as clever as anyone could ever be. Few did not admire her bravery and strength; many envied her resilience and ingenuity._

_As soon as Earth saw Sun, it was love at first sight. How could she resist such a luminous and captivating presence? How could she remain unaffected by her brilliance and might? How could she ever deny that Sun’s light made her feel alive?_

_However, Sun was so tangled up in her loveless affair with Moon that she failed to acknowledge how wonderful and in love with her Earth really was — and how Sun herself was starting to fall in love with the planet._

_To make matters worse, with each year that passed, Earth seemed to be pushed further and further away from the object of her unrequited love._

_One day, however, when talking to none other than Moon, Sun realised that she could no longer enjoy her company because there was someone else she craved to be with every minute of every day, be it talking or laughing or just enjoying the silence. But what she really wanted to do was kiss her._

_Realising how blind she had been, Sun ran to meet her one true love and tell her how she really felt, hoping that Earth would feel the same way._

_That day, Sun finally learnt what happiness and sadness truly were._

_Happiness was what she felt when she told Earth how much she loved her and Earth told her she loved her too._

_Sadness was when star and planet went in for a kiss but realised they were already too far apart for their lips to meet._

_Earth was now fated to forever orbiting her beloved star, never to touch her, never to kiss. All Sun could do now was stare at her lover from a distance, knowing if she had opened her obstinate eyes sooner, maybe they could have been together._

_But she had not and now they were doomed to an eternity apart._

 

Clarke woke up with a startle, sweaty and scared. Weird dream.

She sat up and looked to her right. Luna was sleeping with her stomach on the bed in a room Clarke did not recognise.

She thought back to the previous night: arriving at the party with Raven and Octavia, hanging out with Luna, walking around and finding Lexa, that silly bet, leaving the party with Luna. Clarke remembered walking with the dark haired girl and finally getting to a house (which she supposed was Luna’s) where they had wrapped the night.

It had been great. Great; not spectacular. Spectacular was a standard no one had been able to reach yet.

Luna turned on her back and smiled at Clarke.

“Mornings after,” she sighed with a smile.

Clarke chuckled. “I usually find a way to get rid of the person in the morning.”

Luna sat up and started stroking the light skin on Clarke’s arm.

“Are you going to do that to me too?”

“Nope.” Clarke leaned in to kiss her and said, “This time I would be very interested in doing this again.”

“Miss Griffin, you are a charmer.”

“Wait.” Clarke lifted a finger. “I am interested in doing _this_ ,” she pointed at Luna and herself and then back at Luna. “But I don’t want to lead you into thinking I’m looking for a relationship, because I’m not.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully.

“What I’m saying is, I don’t do feelings,” Clarke explained. “Or relationships.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. “For telling me that. And I would like to do this again. But not on a regular basis.”

“Same.”

Luna grinned.

“I think you can leave now, Miss Griffin,” she teased. “I don’t do mornings after either.”

Clarke stood up from the bed and picked up her clothes, quickly putting them on.

“My pleasure,” she beamed and gave Luna a chaste kiss goodbye.

 

//

 

“Welcome back Griffin.”

Clarke closed the door and looked up. Raven was sitting on the dinner table eating ice cream from the box. The mechanic knew Clarke hated people speaking with their mouth full so of course she did it as often as she could.

“You know, there’s chairs at the table that you can sit on,” Clarke chastised. “Seating on the table defeats the whole purpose of having chairs in the house.”

Raven took a spoonful of ice cream and stuffed her mouth with it.

“Maybe we can sell them, make some bucks,” she suggested. “So where have you been?”

 _Damn it._ Clarke thought she had escaped questioning, but Raven was too smart to just let her go like that.

Actually, if there was anyone Clarke knew was smart, that someone was Raven. If intelligence was measured in a scale from one to 100, the whole world would score up to ten and Raven would score 110. She started by doing a triple major in Mechanical, Aerospace and Nuclear Engineering, and because she had been able to get most of it done quite ahead, Raven had added a Physics major to her curriculum. She was thinking of adding two more now: Chemistry and Astrophysics.

Simply put, Raven Reyes studied for fun. Clarke swore she didn’t understand how her friend’s genius had not been the motive of some incredible news story yet.

Raven was brilliant, beautiful, witty, confident and kind, _and_ knew how to shoot a gun — several types of guns, actually. She was literally the whole package.

“So?” Raven insisted. “Where were you, sex beast?”

Clarke headed to the kitchen and grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer.

“Very funny, Reyes.” She sat on the dinner table beside her friend and demanded the ice cream box. “And I was with Luna.”

“Alexandria’s lackey?” Raven asked, passing her the ice cream.

“That one exactly.”

Clarke took a spoonful of ice cream and ate it, swallowing before speaking:

“Speaking of, Lexa’s a bitch.”

Raven laughed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“And she never smiles. Have you ever seen her smile?”

“Nope. Though I can’t say I’ve hung around her enough to see it.”

“Me either,” Clarke admitted. “But she _is_ a bitch.”

“Be careful, Princess,” Raven mocked. “Don’t go falling for Alexandria.”

“The name is Lexa. And why would I?”

“You have a thing for the assholes.”

Raven hopped off the table and Clarke followed her.

“Finn was an asshole, yes. But he was the only one,” the blonde said. “Also, you’re one to talk, Reyes. Besides, I’m sleeping with Luna, not Lexa. And I’m so not doing the whole feelings shit.”

“Don’t get so cocky, Griffin,” Raven laughed. “You never know.”

“True but Lexa Woods? Really? I’d rather suck Donald Trump’s dick.”

 

****

 

“About time.”

Lexa was in the locker room of Grounder Gym, already dressed in full training gear, when Luna arrived. Anya and Echo were there and ready as well.

“You know Indra hates it when classes do not start on time,” Lexa scolded.

“I’ve never been late,” Luna said. “It’s not like one time will tarnish my so far impeccable record forever.”

The gym belonged to Lexa and Indra. After both Lexa and Anya’s parents had died ten years ago, Indra had taken care of the two girls like they were their own. She was a martial artist and had passed on the knowledge to Anya, Lexa and all her protégées — Echo and Luna among them.

Each of them had specialised in a style of martial arts: Anya in Northern Shaolin, Echo in Tai Chi, Luna in Bagua Zhang, and Lexa in Hung Gar.

Lexa, who had fallen in love with the martial arts, had gone on to learn Ninjutsu and, even less likely, Portuguese stick fighting — Jogo do Pau.

At first, it was Indra managing the gym while the four girls took care of the teaching, earning some needed pennies from it. However, some people had seen Lexa practice Jogo do Pau in her free time and taken an interest.

Seeing the potential in it, Indra had taken on Hug Gar and given Lexa the freedom to teach Ninjutsu and Jogo do Pau, and get a reasonable share of the profit. She had also put Lexa in charge of the actual gym part of the gym, letting her manage it however she wanted and hire a couple of personal trainers to aid the clients and advise them. Indra knew the girl had vision and trusted her completely.

Lexa put on her shadow grey gloves, completing her Jogo do Pau outfit that consisted of fog grey skinny sweatpants and a shadow grey sleeveless t-shirt that ended below the waste and showed off the tattoo on her right upper arm: four tribal hooks of sorts turned inwards forming a bracelet-like design. Her hair was pushed back with a gravel grey scarf that concealed her intricately braided hair and gave her total freedom to jump, crouch, swing and twirl.

There was an official outfit for the sport but she found it easier to teach without those restraints. She did, however, require that her pupils wear the official training garment, much lighter than the one used for competition.

Lexa remembered how angry she was at Luna for being late. “We have a timetable here, Luna.”

“It was the first and last time,” the other girl promised. “But dear God, did I have a great time.”

Anya and Echo immediately started grilling her for details but Lexa raised her hand, shushing them. She could really use not hearing about Clarke Griffin’s sexual exploits.

“First, we do our jobs.” She continued in a softer voice, “Then we gossip.”

They all nodded and left the locker room, going their separate ways.

 

//

 

“She is jaw-droppingly good,” Luna ditched. “Like, goddess of sex good.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. She was used to her friend’s exaggerations.

They were at one of the gym’s bar tables, each with their own type of pasta and salad. Lexa always thought it was useless to have different kinds of what was essentially the same thing, but the other girls seemed to find it a necessity.

“Try not to let her greatness get you late again, will you?”

“Easy, Lexa.” There was a glimpse of sadness in Luna’s eyes. “And to be honest I don’t know if we’re ever doing it again.”

“What do you mean?” Echo asked.

“She’s not into dating and feelings. I mean, of course, the sex is amazing and all that but I don’t know that I can do it again without falling in love with her.”

Lexa and Anya exchanged a knowing look. Luna always fell too hard, too fast and they knew this time, if she kept seeing Clarke, would be no exception.

“You shouldn’t see her again,” Anya warned. “She clearly doesn’t care and you care too much.”

“But what if she calls me?”

Lexa was fast to answer, “Ignore her. She is just a bloodsucking rich girl.”

“Look, Lexa, I know you have taken it upon yourself to hate anything with two legs and a beating heart,” Luna rebuked, “but Clarke is actually a nice person and unlike you, I’m not able to simply shut people out from my life when things get complicated and just decide to not have feelings.”

Lexa felt her body stiffen and clenched her jaw. This was about Costia.

 

//

 

_It had been two week since Costia had broken up with her and Lexa had yet to leave her room. No one had seen her for more than a minute altogether in that fortnight, sometimes catching only glimpses of her when she went to the fridge to get something to eat. And this was a small apartment housing a total of eight people._

_It was a Sunday morning when Anya decided she’d had enough. Everyone had already knocked several times on Lexa’s door, getting either a grunt, an insult or radio silence in response. But Anya wasn’t everyone; she was Lexa’s best friend and she would not back off even if the brunette told her to._

_So that day, instead of knocking or sounding a soft “Lexa?” Anya plainly walked into Lexa’s room. The younger girl was clearly shocked to see her stomp in but quickly curled up in bed around her pillow, trying to avoid further offence. Except Anya was not having any of it._

_“Alright dipshit, you better sit up straight or I’ll pull you up myself,” Anya said in her toughest voice, adding a joke for her own satisfaction, “You can also sit up gay if you want. Just sit. The fuck. Up.”_

_“I don't want to, you cannot make me,” Lexa retorted in a muffled voice, her mouth against her pillow._

_Anya sneered. “Watch me.”_

_There were only two things in the world Lexa was truly afraid of. One was Indra. The other was hell-bent Anya. And Anya was hell-bent on returning her to the realm of the living._

_That’s why as soon as the blonde leaned down to grab her, Lexa got ahead of her and sat up herself, her eyes wide in terror. Anya just laughed out loud._

_“You’re smart, kid,” she scoffed. “You know when not to mess with me.”_

_She then sat down on the bed next to Lexa, her expression very serious. Anya found her eyes, red but dry. Lexa never cried, not as a teenager, not as a child, not as a baby — and certainly not as a young adult. Legend told Lexa hadn’t cried even after leaving her mother’s womb. Another thing she never did was smile._

_Anya sighed sadly._

_“I know it hurts like a bitch. I know you feel like tearing the whole world apart. I know you feel like erasing her and yourself from existence and never have to look in the mirror again,” she said in a soft voice. “But it_ will _get better. And I know the last thing you want to hear right now is how it will get better because in your mind there is absolutely no way that it will, but… You have to trust me.”_

_A minute passed, Anya giving her friend space to think. When Lexa’s voice came out, it sounded broken, as shy as a whisper. “How?”_

_“I don’t know how, that’s for you to figure out. Find yourself a motto and hold on to it, as painful as it might seem. And one day… No matter how far — one day you will be able to live without it and be happy again.”_

_Lexa blinked through non-existent tears and reflected upon her best friend’s words. Suddenly the memory of a voice —_ her _voice — sounded in her head._

That kind of love is weakness.

 

That kind. _What kind? Did that even matter? When you love, you expose yourself. You give your heart to the other person and let them do whatever they please with it. You give the other person the ability to hurt you and you have to trust that they won’t. But she had trusted the one person she thought safe to rely on — and that person had proven her faith to be misplaced._

_If you love, you trust. If you trust, you are vulnerable. You are prone to get hurt. You are weak._

_What kind? Every kind._ Love is weakness.

_Lexa nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat down to her stomach, a new form of strength brewing up inside her. She would not let herself get hurt again. She would not be weak._

_From then on, Lexa no longer trusted anyone. There were only four people in her circle of trust, the four people that had always been true to her, no exception — Anya, Indra, Gustus and Lincoln. Everyone else was just a backstab waiting to happen._

_From then on, Lexa no longer opened herself up to anyone. The people that needed to know her knew her. Everyone else was just a passing stranger._

_From then on, Lexa learnt how to keep her cards close to her chest and plan five steps ahead. Anya was the only one person who could see right through her. Everyone else was just another rival on the other side of the chessboard._

_That was how Lexa held it together when one day Costia showed up at her door, saying she was moving away and asking Lexa to come with her, to start again._

_That was how Lexa managed to keep a callous front and mouth a simple ‘no’._

_That was how Lexa looked her ex-girlfriend in the eye and coldly and calmly reached for the door, closing it between them._

_That was how Lexa turned her back on the pleading door, knowing she would never see Costia again._

//

 

That was how Lexa lived her life now. She did have an escape though, something she clung onto, her own little secret.

“All I am trying to do is protect you,” she stated, straightening her back and looking down at Luna. “If you do not want my help, then so be it. But know I am being your friend.”

With that, she stood up to leave, but a hand grabbed hers and kept her from walking away.

“Lexa, wait.” She turned around to face Luna. “Thank you. For helping me. You’re right.”

Lexa nodded slightly but gravely and sat back down.

“So how are you going to get rid of Goldilocks?” Anya asked, easing the tension.

Luna shrugged. “I’ll tell her the truth. You guys are right, I can’t risk falling for someone who will never care about me the way I’d like them to. I'll stay away from Clarke, I promise.”

“Just try to keep it between you two, okay?”

The whole group looked at Anya.

“Why?” Echo scoffed, “You want to keep your chances with any of them intact?”

“No,” Anya denied in an aggravated tone. “It’s just that if things blow out of proportion then that idiotic Reyes girl will piss me off even more.“

Lexa quirked an eyebrow at her best friend but remained silent. Anya responded with a peeved eye roll.

Lexa knew better than to meddle in the blonde’s business, but would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. Those rich girls were trouble.

 

//

 

It was lunch time and Lexa could barely contain her appetite. She might even consider having lunch at the cafeteria and mingle with the dozens of idiots there — that's just how hungry she was.

She was with the girls in her group: Anya, Echo, Luna, Caris and Emori. This time they were early to the cafeteria so there were still two tables available for the taking. They sat at one, setting their trays down. Merely ten minutes later, the only free places were five seats at their table.

Lexa saw Clarke and the two brunettes she knew of, plus two boys, stand in the middle of the cafeteria, trays in hands, roaming it with their eyes for available seats. Luna immediately shot her hand in the air to signal at them. Clarke saw Luna and grinned, telling her four friends to follow her.

Lexa rolled her eyes, regretting her decision to eat at the cafeteria already.

"I thought you were trying to ignore her," she groaned at Luna.

"No, I'm trying to ignore her calls for sex," Luna corrected like it was obvious. "I still want to be friends. I don't want things to be awkward when Anya and the mechanic finally get it on."

Anya shot her a murderous look and opened her mouth but had no time to answer because the small group got there at that precise moment.

"Hey, Luna," Clarke greeted in her most entrancing voice.

"Hi, Clarke," the dark-haired girl responded with a wink. "Please sit with us."

Raven and Anya exchanged cold stares.

"Snob slob," Raven taunted.

Anya snorted. "Sass brat."

Only when they were seated did Clarke notice Lexa's presence. "Lexa," she greeted with a serious expression.

The brunette looked up from her food reluctantly. "Clarke," she acknowledged.

"These are Jasper and Monty," Octavia introduced.

"Hello ladies," Jasper said with a silly glint in his eyes.

"Just ignore him," Monty chimed in.

"It's certainly nice to meet you all," Luna assured with a big smile.

It was hard for Lexa, who remained mostly silent, to keep track of the conversations. Raven and Octavia were talking to (or exchanging mock insults with) Anya, Echo and Emoris, while Jasper and Monty were telling Caris about some experience they were developing. The two groups seemed to be starting to merge, which did not particularly please Lexa.

What was truly bugging her, though, was Clarke and Luna's joyful conversation. It was not out of jealousy, of course, as Lexa was only lightly attracted to Clarke and overly annoyed by the blonde. It was hard for Lexa to keep from rolling her eyes whenever Clarke laughed or talked or smiled. How could someone be so talkative and cheerful and so... loud?

 Furthermore, Luna had promised to keep away from Clarke. Lexa knew the blonde would hurt Luna so how could she not be worried for her friend?

"Hey Lexa, is anything wrong with your throat?" Clarke asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Lexa stared at her in confusion. "Not at all. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering why you weren't talking," the blonde shrugged. "It was either something wrong with your throat or your head. Guess it's the second option."

Luna failed to contain a short laugh. Lexa took a deep breath and clenched her jaw.

"While you may find it pleasing to entertain yourself with jokes, Griffin, I do not. I prefer to train my brain with cleverer exercises."

"It wouldn't hurt you to talk to your fellow students."

"It would certainly hurt me to lower myself to your level and continue this mindless discussion," Lexa answered standing up. "So if you will excuse me."

Her friends all stood up, Luna whispering 'sorry' to Clarke. Lexa walked towards the exit and felt Luna rush up to walk beside her.

"She's right, you know," the dark-haired girl said. "It wouldn't hurt you to take part in the conversation."

"Likewise, it would not hurt you to keep your promises," Lexa countered. "And yet."

 

****

 

Clarke always sat in the same place for her International Relations class. Right at the centre and halfway up the amphitheatre, close enough to hear Professor Jaha and far enough to be able to doodle freely without drawing any unwanted attention.

She knew Lexa always sit in a specific place too, at the same height as her but in the conglomerate of seats to the right. Clarke knew that not because she had ever stared, but because it was easy to follow Professor Jaha’s annoyingly shiny smile whenever he looked up the stairs at his brightest student. The blonde gagged just thinking about it.

She also knew that holding that lecture in the amphitheatre was a complete waste of space because it was always half-empty.

Anyway, neither of them ever changed places and that class never scored even half attendance. Which was why it surprised Clarke so much when that morning two very peculiar things happened.

Clarke got to the amphitheatre almost twenty minutes before class, as she always did, to be able to draw without noise or interruption. Nevertheless, after only five minutes, she started feeling a hustle around her she was not used to in that room.

Ten minutes later, she finally tore her eyes from the paper to look at a practically filled up room. There were only a couple of seats left out of nearly two hundred. One of them was right beside her.

The biggest surprise, however, was when Clarke felt someone take that very seat and, looking up at her new companion, she saw it was none other than nagger extraordinaire, Lexa Woods, staring at the blonde with her usual serious expression but very amused eyes.

“What… Why…” Clarke was so shocked she could barely form any words. “What are all these people doing here and why are you sitting next to me?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow.

“Do you not know what day it is today, Clarke?”

Clarke felt her face redden. Should she know what day it was today? Should she even know that today was a special day?

“Uhm… No.”

“Maybe if you were not always distracted, doodling on that notebook of yours,” Lexa chided, “you would actually be able to get better grades than me. And maybe you would have heard it when Professor Jaha was presenting the programme for the module at the beginning of the semester and said today was sorting day.”

God, how Lexa annoyed her. And how did she even know Clarke was usually busy drawing during class? And sorting day? What in the burning hell was that?

“I’m sorry, sorting what?” Clarke asked, knowing she was digging an even deeper grave for herself.

This time, Lexa raised both eyebrows at the same time.

“Sorting day,” she explained in a most arrogant tone. “The most important assignment of the semester. Nearly eighty per cent of the grade. Choose a decent partner or go home and cry into your pillow because you already failed.”

Clarke’s eyes grew wide. How did she not know about that?

“I'm surprised that a good student like yourself did not even know of the existence of this day,” the brunette scorned.

“Shut up, Lexa.” Clarke was not in the mood to put up with her constant scolding. “And none of that explains why you’re sitting next to me.”

“I did not know this seat had a ‘no Lexa’ sign. Moreover, look around you, Clarke. Every other seat is taken.”

“That or did you want to ask me to be your partner?” Clarke provoked.

“First of all, the sorting will be done by Jaha,” the brunette stated. “Second of all, I might actually be interested in working with a fellow dedicated student. But clearly, your little carnal adventures are getting the best of your performance as a scholar,” she despised. “No wonder, since you appear to be unable to keep your bed untouched for more than a few hours and seem intent on dragging my friends in your downward spiral.”

“Are you slut shaming me?” Clarke’s voice had an edge now that told Lexa she was stepping over a line.

“No, I am Clarke Griffin shaming you. Stay away from my friends.”

Clarke would have answered if not for Jaha’s interruption:

“Miss Woods, what a wonderful idea to sit beside Miss Griffin,” he beamed. “I take it none of you have any objections to working together? Great!” he exclaimed clasping his hands together when the only reply was a couple of horrified stares. “I will be expecting a lot from you two.”

The two girls looked at each other in shock. Clarke would be partnered with Lexa for the rest of the semester, forced to work with the brunette without killing her for nearly six months.

No. This had to be a nightmare. Please no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter will probably only be up on the 22nd because I'm having my second eye surgery tomorrow and honestly don't know if I'm going to be able to look at the screen for another week.
> 
> But stay alert because I might still post it next week.
> 
> As always, talk to me. I love reading your opinions :)


	4. the diplomats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, what?
> 
> or
> 
> Lexa gets burned but the one needing ice is Clarke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked, I delivered (well not really, it was already planned but it's the thought that counts right?). This chapter is 80% Clexa goodness ;)
> 
> Actually I don't really know the percentage, it's not like I counted. Not (that much of) a nerd.

“Ah, Miss Woods. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lexa was nervous about meeting the Professor. She knew her wish was unlikely to be granted but she had to try.

She had looked up Professor Jaha’s schedule online and raced that morning to meet him after his first class of the day.

It was slightly past 9am and Lexa was pretty sure she had rushed for nothing.

“Hello Mr Jaha,” she greeted. “I would like to talk to you about the semester assignment.”

Jaha lifted a curious brow. “What about it?”

“I would like to change partners, Sir.”

“Why so?”

“I am afraid Miss Griffin and I are unfit to work together. We do not get along and that might be a hindrance to our work. I would not mind working alone and I am sure she wouldn’t either as it would be much better for both our performances.”

Jaha studied his student for several seconds.

“Tell me Miss Woods, where are you right now?”

Lexa was confused by that question.

“Your classroom, Sir?”

“No. I mean generally,” he corrected impatiently.

“University?”

“Right. And doing what exactly?”

“My major, Sir. Second year.”

“Precisely,” he smiled unkindly. “So I imagine that you might be feeling nostalgic about high school and teen drama but this, as you so correctly guessed, is college and it requires a behavioural standard that you are pitifully showing not to be up to.” Lexa felt each word cut through her like a dagger. “Besides, during your political career (if you do happen to have one eventually), you will have to work with people you dislike quite often. So imagine this is one of those times and face it as an opportunity to grow the damn up.”

“But Sir—“

“Have a nice day, Miss Woods.”

With that, he piled up his books, put his satchel bag on his shoulder and left, leaving Lexa alone in the classroom.

Lexa felt a rush of blood come up to her face. She had not only embarrassed herself, but also very likely ruined Jaha’s image of her.

Atop all that, she was still stuck with Clarke.

 

****

 

“Fuck…”

Clarke looked at Luna, surprised at the frustration in her voice. The dark-haired girl was sitting on her side of the bed, face in her hands and an air of despair.

“Hey, everything ok?” Clarke asked with worry.

Luna lifted her face from her hands and looked at the blonde with an apologetic look in her eyes.

“This was a mistake,” she confessed. “I shouldn’t have… I _couldn’t_ have— I wasn’t honest with you, Clarke.”

Clarke sat up and looked expectantly at Luna, giving her space to sort things out in her head.

“We can’t keep on doing this,” Luna explained, taking Clarke’s hand in hers and meeting her eyes. “I knew if I kept on sleeping with you I would fall in love. I knew that, my friends knew that. But I still decided to rebel against that thought and just enjoy myself.”

“Did you not enjoy yourself?”

“No, I did. Very much,” Luna assured with a dejected smile. “But this was the second time we slept together and I know I’ll start caring a lot if we do this again.”

Clarke lowered her gaze. She could never feel the same way.

“It’s ok,” the other girl said, aware of what she was thinking. “I know you won’t care about me like that and that’s ok because you told me that first thing after we first had sex. But I wasn’t honest. I don’t like you, like you yet but if this goes on…”

“Hey,” Clarke whispered, extending a hand to lift Luna’s chin so they were looking in each other’s eyes. “Don’t worry. Let’s forget anything ever happened between us and work on being friends instead.”

“Is that even possible?”

Clarke shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Of course. We just get dressed, leave the room and focus on being good friends,” she said like it was obvious. “None of us likes the other that way so it’s like a drunken one-night stand that no one remembers a week later.”

“You say that like you speak from experience,” Luna noted.

The blonde grinned, “And I do. So you can believe me when I say this is going to be easy.” She extended her hand to Luna, who took it hesitantly. “Deal?”

Clarke felt Luna’s hand in hers and noticed the utter lack of a spark or anything that made her feel warmer. She looked up at the other girl reassuringly.

Luna smiled thankfully.

“Deal.”

 

//

 

The weekend had finally arrived and Clarke had been unable to talk to Lexa about the assignment.

Clarke was still very displeased with the fact that she had to work with the exasperating Lexa Woods, but now she just had to be professional and do the best she could to get that quagmire quickly done with.

That morning, Raven and Octavia had agreed to go to the record store with Clarke and the three girls were walking side by side along the streets heading to their destination.

The blonde had her eye on a The Beatles vinyl and Raven loved showing off her knowledge of old bands and their history. Octavia just didn’t want to live the dangers of being left home alone — at least that’s what she said.

“I’m telling you, no matter how old you are, they can still get to you,” the tiny brunette was ranting.

“O,” Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation, “if an 8-year-old can get rid of Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern all by himself, I think you have nothing to fear locked in our sixth-floor apartment.”

“You’re damn right I don’t!” Octavia grinned with pride and fierceness. “I’d totally kick their ass before they even got past the front door.”

“Then why did you come with us?”

The girl realised, already too late, that she had fallen for the trap Raven had set her. She crossed her arms and pouted.

“Alright, I just didn’t want to feel left out.”

“Aw, poor O,” Clarke laughed, hugging her from the side. “She didn’t want to stay at home while her two friends had fun together.”

“Shut up Griffin.”

Raven and Clarke high-fived behind Octavia, which annoyed the girl even further.

Before she could spit out a sassy response, though, Clarke suddenly remembered something.

“Damn it, I still haven’t talked to Lexa about our assignment.”

Octavia got her phone out and waved it in front of the blonde’s eyes. “Cell phone, maybe? Ever heard of that?”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want that woman’s number on my phone for anything in the world.”

“Jesus Clarke, it’s just an assignment,” Raven quipped. “You get her number from Luna or Anya, text her a dozen times throughout the semester and as soon as it ends you just delete her contact data. It’s not rocket science.” She smiled smugly. ”You can leave that part to me.”

Clarke grimaced. She knew she wasn’t being reasonable but getting Lexa’s number felt like opening a door to a whole new world she wasn’t ready to face yet. She had no idea why it felt like that but something inside her told her it was true.

“Speaking of—“ Clarke interrupted herself, confused. “Not really speaking of, to be honest, because this has nothing to do with it… But I had the weirdest dream the other night.”

They finally got to the record store.

Raven opened the door and held it for her friends, waiting for them to enter and going in after them.

The store was big, with several hip-high stands filled with vinyl records, ordered by decades and genres. Everything was made of lightwood and the air smelled like a mix of antique and new, creating a pleasant atmosphere.

Beside the counter there were four closed cabins with digital record players with connected headphones where customers could try some records.

Entering one of those tiny cabins, Clarke thought, was like closing yourself in your own world made of music and wonder. The whole universe seemed to stop for you to listen to your favourite records and find inner peace, even if only for some minutes.

As soon as they entered the store, Clarke headed to the 60s section, the other two trailing behind.

“What dream?” Raven asked with raised eyebrows.

“I dreamed I was the Sun,” Clarke started.

Octavia laughed out loud. “I thought Raven was the one that believes the world revolves around her.”

“Who said it doesn’t?” Raven sassed back.

O stuck her tongue out at the older brunette.

“Come on guys, just let me finish,” Clarke asked while running her fingers through several records, looking for the one she wanted. “I was the Sun and had this affair with the moon and then— then the Earth was there and we loved each other but when I realised that it was already too late and,” Clarke struggled to find her words, her eyes still on the records. “And then we were already too far apart to be together.”

“Clarke C. Griffin,” Raven put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sexually aroused by the solar system?”

“Wha—“

“Oh my god!”

Octavia grabbed her two friends and lowered them below the stands filled with vinyl discs.

“What the hell, O?!”

“Shhh!” the brunette put her finger in front of her lips, glaring at Clarke. “It’s her!”

“Her who?” Raven whispered.

“Queen Bee.”

“Beyoncé is here?!”

Clarke started standing up but Octavia pulled her back down immediately.

“No you idiot! It’s Lexa!”

“Oh.” Clarke’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

Raven peeked over the stand. Lexa was her regal self, walking around the 40s section with a record under her arm. She was lost in her thoughts and had clearly not noticed the three friends. “Yep, that’s right, that’s her.”

“She must have been in one of the cabins,” Clarke guessed in whispers.

“Well now is your chance to go over there and talk about the assignment,” O suggested. “Without even having to get her phone number.”

Clarke pouted. The idea of having to ruin her trip to the record store to talk to Lexa was not an appealing one.

“But I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Grow a pair, Griffin,” Raven scolded. “She’s not the plague.”

“You sure?”

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Either you go talk to her or I’ll go myself.”

Clarke crossed her arms in relenting fashion. “This store is already ruined for me anyway. She’s contaminated it. So what the hell.”

She stood up and walked past the 50s section and over to Lexa’s spot.

The brunette, in black skinny jeans, a blood-red loose tank top and a black leather jacket, was putting some record back carefully in its place.

Clarke wondered what she was doing in the 40s section; the blonde had always pictured Lexa as a lover of everything hard rock and metal.

Not that she had ever pictured Lexa in any way or situation. She never really thought about Lexa.

Why would she even think about Lexa?

“Lexa.”

The brunette spun around in her heels, taken by surprise. Her eyes widened when she saw the girl standing before her.

“Clarke,” Lexa acknowledged, her voice more high-pitched than she certainly had meant it to come out.

Clarke raised an eyebrow and inspected the other girl’s face. Was she blushing?

“I— I… I was just,” Lexa seemed to stumble on her words but recovered her blasé front right away. “I was just checking some old records, purely out of curiosity. Not interested in buying them, of course.” She started walking to the 2010s section, gesturing at Clarke to follow her, “I was here to buy a Wolfmother record. Do you know them? Of course not. Why would you? You probably prefer some Bruno Mars.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at the brunette’s patronising tone.

As soon as she got to the stand she was walking towards, Lexa started running through a string of records at the speed of light, too focused on the vinyl’s to even bother looking at Clarke.

“Here it is,” Lexa remarked, pulling out an orange record cover with a black circle in the middle and a dark sepia image of a band. She turned around to face Clarke, exhibiting her finding between her hands. “New Crown. The record I came here for.”

Clarke was pretty sure that was a big lie.

Still, she kept quiet and walked with her to the counter. Clarke did not want to spend more time than strictly necessary with the brunette.

Lexa handed the record to the girl behind the counter, who put it in a paper bag and cashed in the money Lexa gave her right after. She gave the brunette the bag and the change.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Lexa finally asked. “Or will you just stand over there while the other two stooges crouch behind the stands trying not to be seen?”

It took all of Clarke’s self-control not to jump down Lexa’s throat right there and then. “The assignment. We need to meet to work on it.”

Lexa furrowed her brow in deliberation. Clarke couldn’t help the thought that any badass impression Lexa tried to give off was completely lost at the sight.

She just looked too harmless, like an adorable Labrador puppy trying to growl at an adult Great Dane.

“How about Monday afternoon?” Lexa proposed. “None of us have classes as far as I am aware of.”

“Extra Physics class,” Clarke shrugged apologetically. “What about Tuesday afternoon?”

“International Relations.”

“Morning?”

“Work. Some of us actually have responsibilities, Clarke.”

Clarke sighed. This was going to be hard. “Well Thursdays are obviously busy for both of us. Fridays are bad for me. Wednesday afternoon?”

“Depends on the time. I have work at seven pm.”

Clarke was surprised. Lexa was doing a major and a minor plus an optional course and still managed to work at least twice a week?

As much as Clarke didn’t like the girl, that was impressive.

“My classes end at three pm, when do yours?” she asked.

“Same as you.”

“Then we could get together from then until whenever you would have to leave.”

“That would be at six pm.”

“Three hours is more than enough.”

“I agree,” Lexa deadpanned. “I think neither of us would be able to survive through more than that without murdering one another.”

“If anyone asks, it was manslaughter,” Clarke joked.

If Lexa thought that was funny she didn’t show it, her ever-cold expression unchanged.

“Wednesday afternoon at three pm in the library,” Clarke concluded, stomping past the awkwardness. Better to meet in neutral ground. “Be there.”

“I can barely wait,” Lexa quipped with sarcasm.

Clarke lifted a finger and opened her mouth to answer, but decided against it.

Instead, she turned on her heels and walked over to Raven and Octavia.

She crossed her arms when she got there, throwing them a look like when a mother finds her children doing something wrong.

“You two idiots can stand up, she spotted you ages ago.”

The two brunettes did as they were told and watched with Clarke as Lexa left the store without so much as a nod goodbye.

“So how was it?” Octavia asked the question on her and Raven’s lips.

“We’re meeting on Wednesday,” Clarke answered without even trying to hide the bad mood Lexa had put her in. “So I guess it’s progress.”

“And yet, you look like you could dismember her at the first opportunity,” Raven noted with a smirk.

Clarke sighed heavily. “She’s just so… Rude.”

 

****

 

Octavia Blake looked harmless but was so feisty she could bring a grown man down. She also had a huge heart.

Her blue eyes, always so eager for everything, were raw with fierceness and love, a deadly mix that no one else would be able to balance out as well as her.

But then again, no one else was Octavia Blake.

She was seating on her couch with Lincoln, snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder. They were watching Orphan Black.

“So why do you watch this exactly?” the burly young man asked with a smile.

Octavia raised her head and looked up at him.

“It’s my duty as the non-gay friend,” she explained solemnly.

“Your duty?”

“Yes,” Octavia rolled her eyes. “My two best friends, who also happen to be my housemates, are both bi. Naturally, I have to keep up. You know the drill.”

“I do?” Lincoln raised his eyebrows.

“Of course. Like you have to watch The Princess Bride with me at least once a week.”

Lincoln smiled fondly at his girlfriend. God, he liked her so much. “You’re right, I do.” He gave Octavia a peck on the lips. “My best friend is a lesbian too but all I have to do is pick her up from practice every Thursday evening.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t want me to, she says she’s not some weak little girl,” he laughed. “But I know she feels safer having me drive her back home at 11pm.”

A new question perked up at Octavia’s lips.

“Why did you never tell me Lexa is your best friend?”

Lincoln blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment.

“You always talked about that bitch Alexandria and how she was always one-upping Clarke and you couldn't stand her,” he said, an apology in his eyes. “I was afraid of telling you that the person you guys hated so much was actually my best friend.”

“No offence Linc, but she has been nothing but a bitch to us,” Octavia countered, crossing her arms.

“Lexa is guarded but she’s not a bad person.”

“She kept trying to pull you away from me.”

“She had good intentions. And she stopped when I told her to,” he reminded. “Now Lexa’s 100% on board with us even if she insists she isn’t. I can see through her shit.”

“I still don’t like the way she treats Clarke,” Octavia said, resting her head back on his shoulder. “It’s like she hates her or something.”

She ended up missing Lincoln’s little smirk. “Something.”

 

****

 

It was Wednesday, three pm, and Clarke was rushing to the library.

She had agreed to meet Lexa at that time to work on the assignment and she didn’t want to give the brunette anything to pick on.

Unfortunately, it was already one minute past three and the library was still two minutes away.

“You are late.”

Clarke rolled her eyes so hard they could have fallen into the insides of her body. “Three minutes. Cut me some slack, Lexa.”

The way the other girl looked at Clarke told her clearly that was a utopia.

Lexa’s clothes mirrored her brash and closed off attitude exactly. She was wearing dark grey skinny jeans with a black tank top covered by a dark grey and blue flannel shirt.

She also looked very gay, especially looking Clarke up and down like that, the blonde noticed with a mental smirk.

“Anyway,” the blonde sat in front of Lexa and put her backpack down on the empty chair to her left. “I’m not here to fight you. So let’s get to work, shall we?”

Lexa nodded, still not taking her eyes off Clarke.

“I would escape this dreadful partnership if I could,” she stated. “I tried. But Jaha seems to think that this will be good for our development.”

Somehow, the confession that Lexa had tried to get rid of her hurt Clarke.

“What the fuck, Lexa?” She didn’t like the brunette either, but did Lexa actually find her that abhorrent? “How old are you? Five?”

Lexa seemed shocked at the reaction. “I thought it would be beneficial for the both of us,” she argued.

“No!” Clarke accused, “It’s only beneficial for your lone wolf, people-hating rock you have for a heart. You’re hardworking, Lexa, why wouldn’t I want to take advantage of our situation? Is it ideal? Of course not, but we will make it work even if I don’t like you a lot and you hate me.”

“I do not hate you, Clarke.”

“You don’t? It sure seems like you do.”

Lexa didn’t answer. Clarke wasn’t going to back down now, though. She still had one more thing to say.

“Oh and remember the other day at the cafeteria when you were fucking rude to me? Guess what: do that again and I’m burning your wannabe Slash ass alive.”

If Lexa had ice, Clarke was sure the girl would be using it because that had been a burn.

Then Lexa held her stare with the same seriousness as always and those deep, remarkable green eyes, and Clarke thought maybe she needed some ice too but for completely different reasons.

Wait, what?

“You are right,” Lexa relented. “Teaming up with you might serve me better than butting heads.”

Clarke grinned widely, victory dancing in her mind. Point Griffin.

“See? I told you,” she gloated. “You may be heartless, Lexa. But at least you’re smart.”

The expression Lexa answered with was as serious as ever, but there was a warmth in her gaze that Clarke had never seen before.

It disarmed her.

“Glad you agree,” the blonde quickly recovered. “Now let’s get working.”

 

//

 

Clarke was not going to lie.

She was having a hard time grasping some concepts. For Lexa it seemed to be obvious why the scholar defended his ideas but Clarke just wasn’t able to agree — or even really understand — them.

“How can it be so complicated?” Lexa was seething. “You cannot squash individuality and meritocracy. The small have to be able to thrive and become bigger.”

“How wouldn’t they otherwise?” Clarke argued. “It’s not like I’m robbing them, they should be able to grow either way.”

“But they are not. Imagine we are street racing. I have a Fiat 500 and you have a Ferrari. The race organisers give each of us the same type of tuning improvements. Yet who wins?”

“You would still cross the finish line.”

“How much later than you? If we want a shot at a fair race, either give me better pieces than you or replace my Fiat with a better car.”

Clarke took a mental note that Lexa liked cars. Why she did that, she had no idea. “But you would still cross the line with a Fiat.”

“That is not enough!” Lexa exclaimed. “I would never stand a chance. You have to give the small ones a chance.”

“I still don’t understand why. I mean, wouldn’t it be unfair on me to give you a Ferrari? I earned my Ferrari.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow. “Did you though?” she scoffed. “Or were you already born with your hands on the wheel?”

Clarke averted her eyes from Lexa’s to her own notebook.

“Precisely,” the brunette made her point. “You were born with a silver spoon in your sassy pretty mouth but people like me never had it easy like you, quite the opposite actually. And goddammit, I want a chance to get to where you are or at least fight with the same weapons. I am here now, equal to you, because I was given that opportunity.

“Someone gave me a house, Clarke. Someone gave me books. Someone told me ‘go be someone that people in your situation look up to and find hope in’. Someone helped me be their guide.”

Lexa spoke with so much passion that it was hard for Clarke to take her eyes off her as she continued, “I took a year after high school to work two jobs at the same time and babysit for some friends’ friends so I could pay for college and even today, even with only one job, I probably work more than my body should have to tolerate. I _earned_ being here. But someone had to give me a hand first.”

“How about making the Fiat’s compete against other Fiat’s?” Clarke suggested.

“You would be boxing us all up away from the big league, no chance to ever compete against the big guys,” Lexa claimed. “I’m not saying ‘give everyone Ferrari’s and Aston Martin’s’. Just give them better pieces or better cars than they have today. Give them an Opel Yaris instead of a Fiat 500. Give them more training. Anything that will help them level with the big ones a bit, compete harder, earn some money here and there and one day, who knows, have enough to buy an Audi A4 or a BMW. Or maybe, if they are really fucking lucky, even a Ferrari.

“But if you do not give them a hand, if you do not give them an opportunity, then they will never even get to fight to be on a par with the privileged,” Lexa finished.

Clarke fell into an awe-inspired silence.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “Thank you for calling me out on my privilege and blindness.”

Lexa was dumbfounded by the blonde’s disarmingly honest reaction.

“I am not saying it is bad that your parents gave you so much, Clarke,” she cooed. “They certainly worked hard to give you the life you live now and no one should be allowed to take that away.”

Clarke moved her hand onto Lexa’s, which was resting on the table. “I know,” she reassured. “You just want the chance to maybe one day be able to give your children what my parents gave me.”

Lexa nodded, locking her eyes with Clarke’s. “A chance at a chance.”

Clarke could stare into that green ocean forever. She had never noticed it, but Lexa’s intense emerald orbs were tinged with specks of gold and if you didn’t look closely, you might mistake the jade for grey. She had sometimes before. But no, those eyes were definitely (and memorably) green.

The library was still absorbingly silent and Clarke was still caught up in those thoughts and beautiful eyes when she felt Lexa’s hand suddenly sneak away from under hers.

To be honest, she had totally forgotten she had been holding Lexa’s hand all that time.

Still, that seemed to break the moment like a phone ring breaks a kiss and just as fast as it had come, Clarke’s fascination with Lexa’s eyes was gone.

The blonde cleared her throat. “So. Thank you for opening my eyes.”

Clarke mentally cursed herself. Could she not have picked some equivalent expression not involving eyes?

Damn it, there was that horrible word again. Eyes. _Stop._

Lexa invaded Clarke’s gaze (or so it felt) once more, her face as serious and smile-less as always, but there it was again: that warmth, that pinch of affection threatening to emerge from her immense green lakes and jump directly into Clarke’s blue ones.

The blonde had no time to figure out what emotions Lexa’s eyes held that her face did not, as a split second later the brunette was already looking down at her textbook.

 

//

 

Clarke wanted to focus, she truly did, but a question was pressing in the back of her mind.

It had been nearly an hour since their little debate and they had assorted tasks so there was no need to talk to each other, but now Clarke could not help being intrigued by what Lexa’s job was.

Judging by Lexa’s more than apparently toned body — it was easy to notice even without staring, it was something physical.

Did she run? She certainly had the long legs for it.

Lift weights? No, it would demand a much stockier body for that and Lexa’s was delic— remarkably lean.

Maybe boxing, she seemed swift and agile enough for that and her arms obviously did not lack the strength to throw some punches.

However, the tan skin on Lexa’s face was smooth and untouched, without any marks or scars, so there was no way she could be a boxer.

She wasn’t tall enough for basketball or big enough for football and Lexa’s style was too distinctive for her to let herself wear those ridiculous baseball outfits.

Soccer was a possibility. Lexa was athletic and had that soccer superstar feel about her. Still, she looked more like a connoisseur than a player.

“Yes, Clarke?” The blonde was startled out of her thoughts. An amused glint lit Lexa’s eyes up and Clarke realised she was gawking. “You were staring.”

Clarke scratched her head, still unsure whether or not she should ask the question burning in her lips.

“I was just… I was curious.”

Lexa cocked an eyebrow.

“Curious about what?”

Clarke decided to cut to the chase. “Your job. What is it?”

Lexa held the blonde’s gaze but Clarke could see the surprise in the way her head was slightly cocked.

“Martial arts,” the brunette revealed, dreams in her eyes. “I teach martial arts.”

That was probably the one answer Clarke wasn’t expecting.

“Like Kung Fu?”

“That used to be one of them.”

One of them? How many did Lexa know well enough to teach?

“You must be really great at it,” Clarke spoke casually. “I would like to see you one day.”

Even more unexpected to Clarke than the martial arts reveal was Lexa’s sudden intense blush.

The brunette was wide-eyed and having trouble concealing the burning red on her face. “It’s nothing special,” she spluttered in embarrassment.

Clarke even managed to find that moment quite adorable.

“Maybe,” she said with a soft voice, “but it’s obviously something important to you and you seem to take great pride in it.”

“I do,” Lexa agreed honestly. Clarke could see she wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t _not_ smiling either.

And for the third time that day, she found that characteristic warmth in Lexa’s gaze. Clarke had no idea why it was there but it felt like an olive branch.

So she took it with a warm smile of her own.

 

//

 

“Can I ask you something?”

Clarke lifted her gaze from her notebook. Lexa asking for permission to pose a question: that was an interesting turn of events. “Of course,” the blonde shrugged with a smile. “Ask away.”

“Please don’t take offence.”

Another interesting turn of events. “I won’t.”

Lexa nodded and asked, “Why do you do what you do?”

“What do you mean?”

The brunette furrowed her brow; it was quite the endearing sight.

“Sleeping with people,” she said carefully.

Oh. That.

Surprisingly, Clarke was not offended by the question.

Lexa really had nothing to do with why she did whatever she did but somehow, at that point in time, it felt right to tell her.

“My ex used to say I was no fun,” Clarke spoke, fidgeting with the tip of her pen. “I am over him though, just not over how much he hurt me. So yeah, now no one has any reason to say I’m boring.”

“You are not boring, Clarke.”

The blonde smiled thankfully. She believed in the honesty of Lexa’s words.

“Anyway, it’s become a source of fun now, my own little hobby. Some people go fishing, I have sex.”

“That is an interesting way to see it,” Lexa said in an amused tone. There was nothing derisive in her voice though and Clarke smirked in response.

“Who knows, I might even find love.”

“Love...” Lexa snorted. “Love is a lie told by Shakespeare to warm the hearts of mindless fools.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little too fatalistic?” Clarke chuckled. “Starting to sound like those guys that sold their houses in 2012 thinking the world was going to end.”

Predictably, the irony went over Lexa’s head. “It hardly compares, Clarke.”

“Agree to disagree, Drax the Destroyer.”

The confused look in Lexa’s eyes made Clarke gape. “Never seen Guardians of the Galaxy?”

“No.”

“Well watch it as soon as you can,” the blonde instructed. “I think you will find a kindred spirit in Drax.”

“That is absurd. It’s a fictional character.”

“See? He’s just a big, blue you. All eloquent and literal, always taking everything too seriously.”

Lexa’s cheeks reddened considerably and Clarke chortled at her awkwardness.

Still, she registered Lexa’s little lyrical moment, regardless of it being just a spur of the moment. It was nice to see that the brunette was more than that broody exterior.

 

****

 

Lexa had to leave.

It was only 5.30pm, a half-hour before the agreed parting time, but she could not take it anymore.

Clarke’s presence, she was starting to understand, was rather inebriating. Magnetic too.

Lexa felt an urgent need to leave and just head to training before her face could get all flustered once again.

Twice already had that happened and Lexa could not afford a third time.

It was getting harder and harder to scowl and prevent her stomach from somersaulting every time Clarke said something silly.

Even the blonde's most annoyingly sardonic remarks were starting to sound like beautiful melodies to Lexa’s ears.

Yep, she definitely had to leave.

Lexa fake-checked her phone as if she had received a text and looked back up at Clarke. Big mistake.

The blonde’s concentrating expression was just too much to take in.

Her lips were pursed, the tip of her tongue peeking out from one side, which made it impossible for Lexa to peel her eyes off her.

“Clarke,” she called before her face could start burning.

The other girl looked up and smiled. “Yeah?”

“I need to leave. Just got a text from my partner asking me to be at the gym half an hour earlier.”

Clarke creased her brow. “Your partner?”

“Business partner. I am co-owner of the gym where I teach,” Lexa confessed.

For some idiotic reason, it felt like a conceited thing to say.

Clarke’s reaction, however, was a flabbergasted wide-eyed stare.

“You run the place? That’s amazing!”

Oh boy. Lexa really had to leave.

“So… Do you mind if I go?” she asked, pointing at the door.

“Of course not! Duty calls, Miss CEO,” Clarke grinned.

Lexa rolled her eyes. “It’s a gym, Clarke. Not a company.”

She felt a pang of guilt for lying, which was immediately erased the moment she accidentally found Clarke's beautiful kind eyes.

Staying there another minute was not an option.

Lexa got up and collected her books and cases, putting them back in her backpack and throwing it on one shoulder. Her other arm busied itself with a duffel bag she had put on the floor prior to Clarke’s arrival.

“Be safe,” the blonde asked.

Lexa’s heart skipped a beat at the recommendation. “Thank you.”

“And don’t think that what I said before was just for show,” Clarke said with a beam. “I _will_ watch one of your classes someday.”

How was it possible not to crush on that girl?

Lexa knew that Clarke didn't exactly adore her and yet there she was, being so kind and caring and showing genuine interest for Lexa's passion.

How was it possible not to melt at every word spoken in that wonderfully raspy voice by those beautiful pink lips?

How could she not be desperate to leave before saying something foolish?

“I will be waiting,” the brunette replied, and then Clarke was witness to what had not happened in a very long time:

Lexa smiled.


	5. the changing, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nice to meet you,” Bellamy smiled at her.  
> Lexa looked him up and down with hopefully not too obvious despise. “Likewise. I guess.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke tells a story and Lexa's Clexa is beginning to show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this was going to be a huge ass chapter and it wasn't complete yet, so I just decided to divide it in two and post the first half today and the second tomorrow (Friday the latest!)
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes as I didn't really have time to proofread it more than once :/
> 
> So yeah, this is a two-parter. Both halves are HUGE
> 
> Hope you like it! :)
> 
> Also, I need to stop with the FRIENDS references

**_3 Years Ago_ **

_Clarke Griffin was a happy girl. She studied at one of the finest universities in the country, was finally beginning to accept the absence of her father and had made two new incredible friends._

_One of them was Raven Reyes, a beautiful and bright girl with an ego the size of the Earth and kindness as boundless as the Universe._

_The girl always held her hair in a ponytail and a smile that carried as many painful memories as amazingly brash hope for the future._

_The other was Octavia Blake. She was one year younger than Clarke and Raven, and still in the first year of her undergrad studies, but living arrangements had brought her together with the other two. She was also the most paradoxical person Clarke had ever met._

_On the one hand, the small blue-eyed brunette was brimming with love. On the other hand, she was so feisty and needlessly aggressive that Clarke doubted Octavia was fully aware of her own tiny size._

_The three had ended up living together because of a handful of coincidences — Clarke took another girl’s place at the last minute, Octavia accidentally picked the wrong flat (“It ended up being the right one,” she always said with a proud grin), and couldn’t be happier with what life had tricked them into._

_In short, Clarke loved both girls deeply. She had a feeling that those were friendships she would keep and cherish forever._

_That week was a special one for Octavia. She was boiling with excitement because her brother Bellamy had just transferred to Polis University and was going to arrive in the city on Friday._

_Apparently, Bellamy was not happy in Philadelphia so he started looking for something he liked and close to his baby sister. He ended up choosing History in Polis Uni, which was the perfect scenario._

_Clarke knew those two years between Bellamy leaving for University and Octavia enrolling in Polis had been tortuous for the small brunette. She and her brother were extremely close; they had been each other’s rock for many years, pulling through a number of ordeals that no one their age — or any age, really — should have had to live through._

_Despite her love for her brother, however, Octavia had never shown her two friends a single picture of her brother. “You’ll see him when you see him,” she used to say with a very serious expression._

_Bellamy had no Facebook or Twitter account (“Is he a fucking hipster?” Raven had asked numerous times, to which Octavia always replied with a giggle) and his sister never let go of her phone so neither Clarke nor Raven had had any chance to snoop her gallery for pictures._

_Needless to say, the curiosity was killing them, even more now that he was coming to live and study in Polis, albeit with the trio’s friends Jasper Jordan and Monty Green._

_Raven had been the one to set it up, convincing Octavia that was the best option. The nerdy duo was missing a flatmate and living with someone familiar would be good to help Bellamy settle._

_“Does he have dark hair like you?”_

_“No, Raven,” Octavia quipped with sarcasm. “He’s a redhead with green eyes because that’s obviously what happens when you’re siblings: you look totally different.”_

_“I met a pair of twins once and one was blonde with blue eyes and the other had brown hair and eyes,” Clarke chimed in. “Those things happen. The gene pool isn’t that predictable, you know?”_

_Octavia waved her off impatiently. “That’s beside the point.”_

_“So he does have dark hair like you,” Raven mused. “Eye colour?”_

_“You’ll see it when you see it.”_

_The other two groaned in despair. It would be impossible to get any valuable info from Octavia before they went out that night and finally met the infamous Bellamy Blake._

_//_

_Clarke was awfully late._

_Her phone was buzzing with dozens of missed calls and unread messages, probably all from Octavia, who was more than likely mad at her friend. While on the bus, Clarke took the time to read some of them._

**_O [19:24]: where are you asshole?_ **

**_O [19:42]: Clarke where are you? Bell is already here_ **

**_O [19:55]: ok you better have a damn great excuse for being so late, Griff!!!_ **

**_O [20:04]: just so you know I won’t take excuses any less serious than being taken by aliens or some shit like that_ **

**_O [20:22]: you better have died or I will kill you myself_ **

**_O [20:31]: seriously where are you? You’re getting us all worried._ **

**_O [20:44]: fuck Clarke, you can’t leave us waiting for news like this. Just answer the fucking phone_ **

**_O [20:52]: Clarke_ **

**_O [21:01]: Clarke_ **

**_O [21:07]: Clarke_ **

**_O [21:12]: CLARKE. Answer the fucking phone_ **

**_O [21:33]: CLARKE I’M STRESSING THE FUCK OUT YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS TO ME_ **

****

_Clarke gulped, feeling extremely guilty about the whole situation._

****

**_Griffindork [21:35]: ten minutes away!_ **

**_O [21:37]: fuck you_ **

**_O [21:39]: thank god you’re okay_ **

**_O [21:41]: now get you lazy ass over here so I can kick it myself_ **

**_Griffindork [21:43]: I’m so sorry I’ll explain everything when I get there._ **

**_O [21:45]: you better have been kidnapped by aliens and fought your way back or met the President or some huge ass shit_ **

**_Griffindork [21:47]: I’m not Kim Possible, O. But I did meet the Mayor…_ **

**_O [21:52]: SHE’S YOUR MOTHER. your argument is invalid_ **

****

_Clarke really wanted to be there on time but it had been simply impossible. She’d had a meeting with the Mayor along with some other college students and a couple of professors. The worst part was that she could not bail even if she wanted because, as Octavia had very opportunely pointed out, the Mayor was her mother._

_The university board always used that connection to their advantage, cordially suggesting that Clarke volunteer. Which is to say they indirectly forced her to help whenever they wanted to meet with Abigail Griffin._

_Worse even was that Abby fully expected Clarke to be up to the responsibility and the one time the girl had missed a meeting, her mother had been royally pissed, for lack of a more suitable expression. So one way or another, Clarke was trapped._

_That meeting especially had been long and boring and taken up the entire afternoon, with Clarke having a “cordial” argument with her own mother. The older woman fully expected her to defend the interests of the University even if that led to disagreements between them._

_“You have to fight for whom you are representing,” her mother always said. “Even if that means fighting me.”_

_Clarke was snapped out of her thoughts by another message._

**_O [22:02]: hurry up dude! Bell is leaving!!!_ **

**_Griffindork [22:06]: so soon?!_ **

**_O [22:07]: he has to be in uni at 7am tomorrow_ **

**_Griffindork [22:11]: shit that’s early_ **

**_O [22:15]: I’m surprised you even knew that hour existed since I doubt you’ve ever been awake so early_ **

**_Griffindork [22:18]: .l._ **

_The bus ride was almost over so Clarke stood up from her seat and walked to the door, standing as she waited for the bus to arrive at the stop in front of the Grounders Club, Octavia’s favourite._

_Clarke’s phone buzzed again and she turned the screen on to check the new message from Octavia._

**_O [22:32]: you’re 3 hours late, my brother is leaving and I hate you_ **

**_O [22:33]: I don’t really hate you but you know what I mean_ **

**_O [22:34]: you get the picture_ **

**_Griffindork [22:35]: I’m so sorry O, I promise I have a great excuse AND I’ll make it up to you!_ **

**_O [22:36]: You better, asshole_ **

****

_The bus came to a halt and the doors opened with a screech. Clarke jumped off and ran to the club._

_//_

_“Am I on time?”_

_“No,” Octavia was not happy. The way she was pouting and had her arms folded in front of her chest was not a good sign either. “He just left, you missed him by like five seconds.”_

_“Shit.”_

_The brunette snorted. “Yes, much shit.”_

_“Just go grab yourself a beer, Griffin,” Raven intervened with a sly grin. “This one will be in a good mood again by the time you come back. I’ll make sure of it,” she winked at Clarke and pointed at the untouched drink in front of Octavia._

_“I will make it up to you, O. I promise.”_

_“Yeah yeah just get out of my face before I smack yours.”_

_Clarke shook her head with a warm smile. She was fully aware that Octavia was mad at her but not for long, as the brunette knew Clarke would never intentionally be late and meeting with her mother was always something that drained the years off the blonde’s life._

_Clarke loved her mother deeply but there were days when being Abby’s daughter — even more than being the Mayor’s daughter, was just too complicated to handle._

_Mother and daughter were so alike, with their strong personalities and epic stubbornness, that they ended up clashing more often than not. Still, they got along quite well and Clarke knew that she could count on Abby for everything. She was, in spite of all her faults and flaws, a good mother._

_Clarke neared the bar and asked the bartender for a beer. She paid with a five-dollar bill and told the man to keep the change._

_“Actually, make it two,” she said, spotting a very attractive young man that was getting up from a nearby stool._

_The bartender scowled but quickly served another pint. Clarke grabbed it and swiftly walked up to the young man._

_“Leaving so soon?” she asked, getting his attention. He spun around and his lips drew up a smile when he saw her. “Care to keep this lonely girl some company?”_

_He smirked, giving Clarke time to examine him better. He was tanned, with dense, short and extremely dark curly hair messily falling over his forehead. His body was not to be ignored either._

_“I really have to leave,” the young man said with an alluring smile. “Just met with a group of friends and was getting a final sip of beer before heading out to the real world.”_

_“Are you sure you want to return to that awful place?” Clarke asked, handing him the second beer, which he gladly took with a nod thank you._

_“It’s not so much wanting as having to.”_

_“Boring,” she scoffed. “Come on. I know a place where the real world don’t chime in.”_

_He lifted a playfully incredulous eyebrow. “You do? And what wondrous, magical place might that be?”_

_Clarke smirked and winked at him. “My bedroom.”_

_//_

_Clarke had left Octavia a message the night before, just prior to leaving the club, saying she had met a really hot guy and she was deeply sorry but could not waste that opportunity, so she had taken him back to her room. She knew the brunette would be mad but she was the one that was always saying Clarke needed to get laid._

_Well, now she had._

_Clarke opened her eyes and looked at clock on her bedside table: 6:20 am._ Pretty soon to be awake _, she thought._

_The girl contemplated the body to her right. The young man, who had not even told her his name last night, was lying on his back, his bare chest outlined by beautiful toned muscles. It had been a night well spent._

_The bedroom door was slammed open out of the blue and Clarke rolled her eyes, already used to Octavia walking in with no regard for the fact that someone else was there too._

_“Wake up Griffin, Bell is going early to uni today and I want to meet him and introduce—_ _Ohh! Ohh! Ahh-ahhh!!!”_

 _Clarke sat up immediately, startled by Octavia’s cries. The brunette’s face was whiter than white and she was jumping up and down as to shake off some kind of slime while screaming, “_ _OH!!_ _MY EYES!!! MY EYES!!!!”_

_That woke up Clarke’s companion, whose eyes widened impossibly at the sight of Octavia. “Fuck!”_

_He jumped out of bed and put on his boxers. He then ran to Octavia, who was still screaming uncontrollably, and hugged her tightly. He ran his hands through her hair very gently and murmured to her in a soothing voice. Only then did she start calming down._

_Clarke got up too, wrapping herself in the duvet. “I’m sorry, am I missing something? You two know each other?”_

_The man let go of Octavia with an embarrassed smile, tentatively stretching his hand out to the blonde._

_“Hi, you must be Octavia’s friend Clarke. I’m Bellamy Blake.”_

****

 

“That is a terrible story.”

Clarke couldn’t help laughing at Lexa’s deadpan reaction.

“Like you have a better story to tell,” she said.

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Just because I do not have a better story, it doesn’t mean yours is any less terrible, Clarke.”

The two girls were sitting next to each other during their International Relations class and seemingly more into talking than actually listening to what Professor Jaha had to say.

Two weeks had passed since their first meeting to work on their assignment and, two other meetings later, the two girls were getting slightly better. Emphasis on slightly.

“Whatever you say. I think it’s an amazing story.”

“Was Octavia angry at you?”

“She was mad. Had to do her laundry for two months,” Clarke chuckled. “Funnily enough, it was that one-night stand that made me promise not to just sleep with people without being completely sure ever again. Which in turn led to why Finn cheated on me in the first place.” she paused, assuming a musing expression. “Maybe if I hadn’t hooked up with Bell, I’d still be with Finn…”

“I do not know why you would want that,” Lexa frowned. “From what you have told me, that Finn person seems entirely undeserving of you.”

“He was sweet to me.”

“He cheated on you.”

Lexa realised what she had just said. Still, her case had been different. Costia had made a one-time mistake and committed fully to her afterwards. It was Lexa who had not been able to forgive her completely and with that, she had ruined their relationship. It was Lexa’s fault, not Costia’s.

In the present case, the only one to blame was that Finn Collins bloke that had hurt her Clarke so much. I mean, Clarke. Clarke. Just Clarke. Clarke.

Clarke was no one’s and that was one of the things Lexa fancied the most about the blonde. Not that she fancied the girl. Because she didn’t.

Oh good grief, who was she trying to fool? Of course Lexa fancied Clarke Griffin.

“Maybe you’re right,” Clarke admitted with a sigh. “But I still wish things didn’t end like that. You know, him cheating on me and everything.”

“Every painful ending is also a chance at a cathartic beginning,” Lexa noted solemnly. “Sometimes when a door closes on you all you have to do is look around the room.”

“Look around for what?”

“A door that will open to your push.”

Clarke mused on Lexa’s words for some seconds, biting the tip of her pen. Lexa took in the striking sight.

Clarke was beautiful and the brunette thought her pondering expression was nothing short of adorable.

How had she developed a crush on the blonde?

That was something Lexa wondered about quite often. She had never talked to Clarke until that party and the girl had never seemed to be anything other than annoying prior to that.

Nevertheless, Lexa had seen how loyal and protective of her friends Clarke was and how they seemed to look up to her. Not to mention she was extremely intelligent and a dedicated student. And of course stunningly beautiful, all of which had inevitably led her to crush on the blonde.

Lexa appreciated loyalty, smartness and leadership skills — all qualities that the blonde had in spades. How could Lexa not have a light crush on her then?

 _Light crush._ _That was funny_ , she thought. _More like completely out of control._

She swiftly shut those thoughts out. Light crush was enough.

“You mean find love?” Clarke asked, pulling Lexa back to the world of the living.

“Love,” the brunette grimaced. “Love is the epitome of human stupidity and the pinnacle of misdirection.”

“You’re so poetic, Lexa,” Clarke smirked without malice. “Do you ever write those down?”

“No,” Lexa lied with a pout.

“Ha! You totally do!” the blonde exclaimed with a big smile that Lexa was pretty sure made her insides literally melt.

“Miss Griffin, do you wish to add to the debate?”

Clarke’s neck turned to Jaha, who was wearing an annoyed expression on his face.

“No Sir,” she replied sheepishly.

“Well then I would appreciate it if you kept your voice low,” the Professor requested. He then glowered at Lexa, “I suggest that you pay attention too, Miss Woods.”

Lexa nodded curtly, her green eyes exuding aggravation.

She did not talk again till the end of the class.

 

//

 

“Want to have lunch with us?” Clarke asked as the pair walked out of class together. Lexa mentally cursed her for being so damn nice.

“Thank you but I will be eating at home with Anya and Lincoln,” she courteously refused. “I could, however, accompany you to your table and only then leave.”

Clarke almost responded, but a male voice interrupted her, “Clarke!”

The blonde turned her head and her lips opened up in a big grin as she looked at the source of the sound. A young man with shaggy dark hair and too shiny a smile approached them.

“Bell!” Clarke greeted and turned back to Lexa, “This is Lexa.”

Lexa put two and two together. That boy was none other than Bellamy Blake, the one Clarke had slept with. She felt something burn inside her stomach.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled at her.

Lexa looked him up and down with hopefully not too obvious despise. “Likewise. I guess.”

He seemed to notice her unkind tone but Clarke was fortunately oblivious to it.

“I have to go to another class,” Bellamy said, kissing the blonde’s cheek. Lexa rolled her eyes. “See you later Princess.”

Clarke laughed and waved goodbye. Lexa chewed on the inside of her right cheek to keep from grumbling at the obvious display of affection.

Clarke resumed walking and Lexa followed her, falling into pace.

After a few silent moments, Lexa spoke trying to keep a nonchalant tone, “I suppose that is awkward hook-up Bellamy.”

“You suppose right,” Clarke smirked, adding to Lexa’s confusion.

“Do you two still…?”

Clarke’s loud and heartily laughter took the brunette by surprise. Lexa wondered whether she should feel offended by that reaction, but there was no point in ruining the progress she had made with Clarke over some petty detail.

 _Two weeks ago you wouldn’t have hesitated to take offence_ , the devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear. Lexa decided to ignore it.

Clarke was still laughing.

“God no,” she finally let out, visibly with great effort and still some laughter in her voice. “Bell is like a big brother to me now. Needless to say, after that awful morning we never dared touch each other again.”

“Because of Octavia?” Lexa insisted. “Why would you sacrifice a potential relationship for her?”

“Yes and no. Octavia would support us but I wouldn’t want to take any risks. Besides, the moment he told me he was her brother I instantly saw him as an extension of her.”

Lexa admired Clarke’s loyalty towards her friends once again.

“Octavia is family,” the blonde explained. “The baby sister I never had. And so is he as a result. So yeah, I automatically perceived it as having slept with my own brother, which let me tell you: ew.”

Lexa could not help the little smile that pulled into her lips. She kept her head facing straight ahead, avoiding Clarke’s magnetic figure, and hoped that the blonde hadn’t seen her smile.

 

****

 

She had.

Clarke was utterly confused by Lexa.

The brunette was closed off, frequently rude and annoyingly stubborn, but sometimes displayed a softer side that made Clarke sure that Lexa was much more than the dark and broody exterior.

As they spent more time together, that softer side came through quite often. Which when it came to Lexa Woods was no more than roughly once every two weeks. Still: improvement.

That softness was represented by that tiny half of a smile, as small as it was meaningful and genuine. Clarke knew it was a rare treat and knowing she had been witness to it twice already made her feel good about herself.

“I have no idea why you would need me to accompany you to the table,” Lexa said in her usual bothered tone that annoyed Clarke so much.

“I don’t,” the blonde answered with a roll of her eyes. “But I figured we had to schedule our next meeting.”

“You can always call or text me for that.”

“I would if I had your number.”

“I do not think you would like to extend our interactions beyond the bare minimum by having my phone number,” Lexa remarked.

Clarke let out an aggravated sigh.

“We can do it again on Thursday,” Clarke suggested. “Which is basically tomorrow. But it would have to be at my mom’s house.”

“I thought you lived with Raven and Octavia.”

“I do but like— I prefer working at my mom’s because it’s much calmer and I get a lot more work done.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

By that point, the duo had reached the table where Clarke’s friends were seating. The group — Raven, Octavia, Jasper and Monty, was shocked to see the two girls together.

Octavia made no effort to close her agape mouth.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” Clarke asked, ignoring her friend’s ridiculous expression. Raven made sure to push the younger girl’s jaw up for her.

Lexa nodded. “Morning or afternoon?”

“Show up at ten am. I’ll serve us lunch and we can work through the afternoon.” Lexa motioned to leave, but Clarke remembered something all of a sudden. “Wait! You actually need my address, silly.”

The brunette stopped and turned to Clarke again, her signature warmth imprinted on the gaze she directed at the blonde.

Clarke took out a piece of paper and a pen (she always had those at hand) and scribbled something, giving the paper to Lexa, who read it.

 

_100 Ark Avenue_

_10am_

_Bring your annoying self ;) xx_

Lexa looked back up and again, Clarke saw that her lips weren’t smiling but if you knew them well enough you could see that it was kind of, sort of, totally a smile.

Clarke knew them well enough, so she grinned back.

“See you then, Clarke.” Lexa then nodded goodbye to the group seating at the table and left.

Octavia was the first to speak up.

“Ok! Are we going to address the elephant in the cafeteria?”

Clarke had no clue as to what she was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“Oh I don’t know! Like, what were you doing all chatty and giggly with Queen Elsa over there?”

Clarke huffed, putting her bag down and plopping on the seat next to Raven and facing Octavia.

“Seriously, guys? She’s not that bad.” The small brunette raised a brow at her. “I mean, she’s still a bitch and I hate her but she’s really not that bad.”

Raven laughed. “I think the million dollar question is, why was the Commander being so nice?”

Clarke tilted her head at the moniker. “The Commander?”

“Yeah, haven’t you heard Anya and the others calling her that?”

“No, not really.” Clarke smirked as she added, “Then again, I’m not the one secretly going out with Anya.”

Raven flipped her off and then the whole group as they all laughed at her.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Cheekbones, got it?”

“Whatever you say,” Octavia teased and high fived Clarke.

The blonde checked the date on her phone, remembering something.

“Guys, it’s September 23rd. It’s Bi Pride day, we totally have to go out!”

Raven, Jasper and Monty agreed in no time, Octavia was more careful.

“As much of a party animal as I am,” the younger girl pointed out, “it’s a Wednesday, Clarke. As far as I remember, you have to meet Lexa next morning and she doesn’t seem the type that takes lateness lightly.”

“Oh shut up Octavia, we could even pre-drink at Monty’s,” Jasper chimed in with his usual overenthusiastic proposal.

“I think it would be best not to pre-drink, Jasper,” Monty noted. “Clarke can’t have a hangover tomorrow or the Commander will probably kill her.”

“You think Lexa would actually, literally kill Clarke?”

“You never know,” Raven intervened with a smirk. “I’ve heard she eats nerds for breakfast though.”

“We’re not kids, Raven,” Jasper rebuked. “We don’t believe in those stories anymore.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I bet 20 bucks on how you’ll jump the next time you see her,” she chortled.

Everyone but Jasper laughed.

“I won’t drink much,” Clarke promised, going back to the main debate. “Come on, O.”

Octavia shook her head. “Thought you were supposed to be the responsible one.”

“And I am, just not today. Today is my day.” A throat was cleared on her right. “And Raven’s. You can even bring Lincoln.”

After (not that) much insistence — she was, indeed, a party animal — Octavia finally relented. “Alright, my club choice then. And yes, it is Grounders.”

“Wait if O is bringing Lincoln then I want to bring Anya,” Raven said.

“Thought you two weren’t a thing,” Clarke mocked with a quirked brow.

“We’re not.” The brunette winked, “But we might be after tonight.”

The whole table cheered.

 

****

 

Lexa got home just in time for lunch. She went directly to her room, where she put her bag down and took off her jacket, heading to the living room.

She shared a flat with Anya, though Lincoln spent a lot of time there too. It was composed of two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room with the most comfortable couch Lexa had ever sat on. She really loved that couch.

Anya and Lexa had agreed to never have sex on the couch, no matter how hot or thirsty their dates were. Anya had brought home her fair share of boys and girls and Lexa had brought Costia, but none of them had had sex on the couch yet. That promise was yet to be broken.

“Hey Lex, looking disgustingly bubbly today.”

The girl glared at Anya, who was messily lying on the couch, all four limbs spread out.

“I do not know what you’re talking about, Anya,” Lexa dismissed.

“You don’t look angry at life or about to kill somebody. I’d say that’s a first since— wait, have you been talking to Costia?”

“What? No!”

“Good,” the older girl sighed with relief. “Wouldn’t want you talking to that bitch ever again. I always hated her.”

“That is a lie. You adored her.”

“Will you please let me be the best friend that hates all your exes?” Anya retorted. “Now who have you been talking to?”

“No one,” Lexa lied pretty convincingly, at least that’s what she thought.

Anya shot her arms up in resignation.

“Alright, I give up. So tell me about your day.”

Lexa cocked an eyebrow at her best friend. “What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?”

Anya feigned hurt. “Can’t I care about you?”

“Fine, mom,” Lexa scoffed. “Only had one class today, International Relations.”

“Wait, isn’t that the one you share with Luna’s blondie?”

Lexa knew it was a trap. She knew that and she knew that all she had to do to escape it was say yes. And she should have. But she didn’t.

“I do not recall Clarke belonging to anyone, much less to Luna,” she stated in the most indifferent tone she could convey. It wasn’t indifferent at all.

Anya sat up and widened her eyes at her friend.

“Clarke Griffin? _Clarke Griffin?_ " Anya mocked Lexa’s voice, “’Oh my god, she’s such an annoying brat’ Clarke Griffin?”

The brunette heaved an aggravated sigh. “Yes, that Clarke Griffin.”

“What about Clarke Griffin?”

Lexa turned to look at Lincoln, who was carrying two pans in his hand, which were covered in ridiculous flower-patterned mitts. She hadn’t even noticed her other best friend was in the kitchen. He loved cooking, which was great for Anya and Lexa, since the blonde was more likely to start a fire than successfully fry an egg and the brunette was rarely home long enough to make anything.

“Lexa is crushing on her,” Anya filled him in, earning a scowl from the other girl. They all sat down at the table and started eating.

“Oh I already knew that,” he shrugged with a smug smile.

“I am not crushing on her. I’m not some hormonal teenager,” Lexa corrected. “And what is that about already knowing?”

“Oh come on Lex, I’ve seen you two interact. And the way you talk about Clarke like she’s the worst person to ever set foot on Earth but you actually can’t stop talking about her because newsflash: you can’t stop thinking about her either.”

Lexa choked on her food. “That is 100% not true,” she countered after some seconds, when she was finally feeling good enough to talk again.

Anya laughed out loud, earning another glower from her friend. “Yeah, right. Luna’s going to be pissed by the way.”

“No, she will not because one, she and Clarke ended whatever they had; and two, nothing will ever happen between me and Clarke.”

“Why?”

“Clarke hates me,” Lexa stated, not without a glint of sadness in her eyes. “She can’t even bring herself to have my number on her phone even if we are working on an assignment together.”

Anya waved her fork at the brunette. “Why don’t you ask her instead?”

“I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with Clarke. Not after Costia.”

Both Anya and Lincoln groaned in exasperation.

“For fuck’s sake, Lexa, you can’t let the past dictate your choices,” the blonde spoke. “Not that I want you and that airhead together but grow up.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with Clarke,” Lincoln frowned. “She’s a sweet girl and Octavia’s best friend. I like her.”

“I don’t. She’s a privileged little diva in my opinion. Anyway, whatever you do, just don’t get stuck to the past. Also, be careful.”

“You’re one to talk, Anya,” he chided. “You’re dating Raven Reyes.”

Anya rolled her eyes so hard the whole room almost turned upside down. “For the zillionth time: I am not dating that girl.”

“And I do not have a crush on Clarke,” Lexa added.

Lincoln simply laughed at the two women in denial.

“We’ll see about that tonight when we all go out with Octavia and her friends.” He waggled his eyebrows, knowing he had their attention. “Tonight at ten at Grounders.”

“No can do, I have classes,” Anya refused.

“O explicitly asked me to bring you along.”

Lexa smiled internally, she knew Octavia had spoken in behalf of Raven. “I guess I have to go then,” Anya shrugged.

“How about me? No specific request for my presence, I suppose?” Lexa asked. She didn’t want to go out that night, so she was praying that Lincoln’s answer would be negative.

“Sorry, Lex. She didn’t ask me about you.”

Somehow, that actually disappointed her. Clarke did not care whether she showed up or not.

“I will go anyway,” she surprised herself by saying it. “I have to meet with Clarke tomorrow so if she sees no problem in going out the night before, then either do I.”

Lincoln shot a smirk at her but washed it off his face as soon as he saw her glare. He was a big man but knew better than to mess with his best friend, the badass of the bunch.

“I’ll call O confirming our presence then,” Lincoln beamed.

Lexa sighed, shaking her head. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said at the beginning: part two coming tomorrow or Friday, keep your eyes open!


	6. the changing, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So be it," Lexa said. "I would rather be weird and walk my own path than be common and follow the undistinguishable crowd.”  
> “Are you saying I’m common?” the blonde teased.  
> “Not at all. You are quite unique, Clarke.”
> 
> or
> 
> Lexa doesn't care and Clarke has an uncomfortable encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's part 2 as promised. Hopefully there's not too many mistakes, my sight gets a little blurry at night because my eyes are still not at 100%
> 
> No FRIENDS reference in this one! Taylor Swift was my muse this time around ;)
> 
> After an almost Clexa-less part 1, this chapter has some of my favourite Clexa banter so far. Also, Lexa is secretly a softie but we all knew that already, didn't we? ;))
> 
> Anyway: hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: mention to bullying

As she was leaving home with Anya and Lincoln, Lexa made herself a promise: to stop caring about Clarke Griffin. The girl was marvellous but Lexa knew she couldn’t pursue a relationship with her so there was no use in pining for someone she could never have. Besides, it was ridiculous to put herself up for such humiliation. Love was weakness. That was the end of it.

The club was crowded — inexplicably considering it was a Wednesday — and some song was pumping on the speakers.

Lexa liked this club because it was by far the one that played the best music. Not that it was great, but the others were all just awful.

Anya had insisted that they bring Echo and Luna along, an idea that Lexa was not terribly fond of. A bigger group required more social obligations, besides the two girls coming meant that Luna and Clarke would be in the same room, probably talking, possibly dancing. Maybe kissing and perhaps ending back in bed together. Not that Lexa cared.

At that moment, she was crammed into a table along with her group, plus Octavia (who was sitting next to Lincoln and being totally gross with him — Lexa would never admit to it but she actually didn’t wholly dislike the girl), Raven, the ones they called Monty and Jasper, and (mental spit) Bellamy. Not that Lexa cared.

And of course, Clarke. She was beautiful that night, with her blonde locks down framing her face like petals of the most exquisite flower. Her make up was minimal, which favoured her features in Lexa’s opinion. Her intense blue eyes, as always, held a smile anyone would yearn to reach out for.

Someone said something funny and Clarke laughed that amazing, husky laughter of hers, those perfect white teeth adorning her smile.

“So why do you call Lexa the Commander?” Jasper asked.

Lexa looked at him. He had jumped when she had first arrived in the club, something Raven and Monty had seemed to find hilarious. Since then, he had been trying to woo Echo to no fruition.

She noticed Luna and Echo looking at each other with mischievous smiles. “Should we tell them?” the dark-haired girl asked the other.

“No,” Lexa shut them immediately down. She hated that story.

“Do tell!” Clarke laughed heartily and at that moment nothing else mattered. “I want to know how this broody shortie got such a badass name.”

“I am taller than you, Clarke,” Lexa replied. To those who didn’t know her, her tone transpired annoyance; however, anyone who knew her well enough could feel the warmth in her voice. Clarke was apparently one of the latter, judging by the way she raised a playful eyebrow. “And I am badass too.”

“Oh I almost forgot you’re a martial arts guru.”

Anya shot Lexa a wide-eyed look. “You told her about that?” she asked only loud enough that the brunette could hear her.

Lexa shrugged. “She asked.”

The blonde was going to rebuke but Clarke’s raspy voice cut off the two women’s banter, “Come on girls, tell us!”

Luna laughed and looked at Lexa as if to ask for permission. The Commander sighed. “Clarke will not stop bugging me about it so why not.” Next she added, “It’s really not that interesting a story.”

“Tell us yourself then,” the blonde dared. “Miss ‘my walls are so tall I could build a fort from here to the Moon’.”

Lexa held Clarke’s gaze with an amused glint in her eyes. At that precise moment, it was like there was reality and then the two of them. Like they were in a world apart in spite of everyone and everything around them.

“Alright,” Lexa conceded, not surrendering in their fight for who could hold the other’s stare for longer. “Until I was about 15 years old, I had a speech impediment that made me say r’s wrongly. I have corrected it now but back then at 12 years old it was quite bothersome. Imagine me: a gay, anti-social pre-teen with a speech impediment. Naturally, bullies thought I was the perfect specimen. It was around that time that Indra, my legal guardian, started teaching me martial arts.”

“I’m so sorry, Lexa.”

“Don’t be. I grew up from the experience. It was traumatic but—“ Lexa finally broke eye contact to look down at her own hands. “I cannot say I wouldn’t change a thing because obviously I would, but I am actually proud of the outcome. It brought me to where I am today.” She then looked back up at Clarke with renewed intensity and added, “Right here and now.”

The blonde’s lips ticked up in a slight, kind smile. Lexa knew that Clarke understood what she’d said only to a point. Clarke knew she was talking about how her life was now. What the girl did not know was that Lexa was also talking about that moment in time and the way those blue eyes made her feel. Clarke didn’t have the faintest idea. Not that Lexa cared.

“So anyway,” she recovered her composure, “I was slightly bossy and reckless at the time as well.”

Anya laughed. “Only slightly?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Maybe more than slightly. But as I was saying—“

“Imagine a Chihuahua trying to bark back at Rhodesian Ridgebacks,” Luna intervened. “A tiny, rude, lesbian pre-teen trying to mess around with bullies. The results ought to be bad.”

“I already said that, Luna,” Lexa retorted while glaring at the dark-haired girl, who shot her hands up in surrender.

“Shut up guys, I want to hear this story,” Bellamy chimed in.

Lexa raised an eyebrow at the young man but resumed telling the story. “I was playing ships and pirates with some friends when a group of bullies approached. They apparently found it too funny and started laughing at us. I talked back.”

“Never talk back at bullies,” Raven remarked matter-of-factly.

Lexa nodded in agreement. “I did not know any better. So they started taunting me and I kept on puffing my chest until at some point one of them asked me who I thought I was. Still very much in the ‘master and commander’ vibe, I answered with a silly ‘Commander Lexa’.”

“Ouch,” Octavia winced.

“Obviously, it came out as ‘Commandel Lexa’, which they found hilarious,” Lexa went on. “I was wearing a skirt. So they pulled my panties down and put them on my head like a hat and said, ‘now you look like a Commandel’ and walked away laughing.”

“That’s awful,” Clarke gasped.

“Three years later, they still called me that and I was finding my talent for martial arts. So I decided to use it to my advantage,” Lexa declared with a shrug. “I confronted the bullies that had humiliated me and — being careful not to do the same to them and inadvertently become a bully myself — forced them to apologise.”

“And tell them what you said,” Echo incited.

Lexa sighed. She felt it was a meaningless details. “I told them, ‘from now on you call me CommandeR Lexa’.”

The whole table cheered, Octavia even clapped. “Badass Lexa is badass!” the tiny girl exclaimed.

Lexa assumed that they all were looking at her with proud faces but she couldn’t know for sure because her eyes were fixed on Clarke’s reaction only. Good that they were, because the girl was wearing her most approving smile. Not that Lexa cared.

“Now she wears the moniker with pride, not with shame,” Lincoln assured, giving his best friend an affectionate smile.

“Girls love it too,” Anya sneered, earning laughs all around the table and a deadly glare from Lexa.

Octavia turned to Lincoln. “You didn’t tell me Lexa did martial arts.”

“We all do,” Anya cut in. “Lincoln does too.”

The small brunette’s eyes went wide and revolted. “You,” a slap on her boyfriend’s arm. “Can,” another one. “Fight,” and another. “And you,” another. “Didn’t,” one slap to go. “Tell me?!” the final slap was laid and Lincoln couldn’t stop laughing.

“And you wonder why?” he scorned.

“I want you to teach me!”

“I can introduce you to Indra,” Lexa suggested. “She would probably not be too unhappy about it.”

Octavia’s eyes went wide again, now with excitement and dreams. “Please!”

Everyone laughed again. Lexa looked at Clarke, who thanked her with a smile. The brunette nodded in acknowledgement.

“Oh my god! This is my jam!” Everyone turned to Raven, who was now clearly in another world. “I’m sorry to leave you nerds, but I’m going to go over there and dance my ass off to Taylor Swift.”

Lexa grimaced at the mention of the name. Taylor Swift. Not her jam. Well, she did like a couple of songs — ok, maybe (way, way) more than a couple — but the girl knew she would never hear the end of it if her friends found out about that.

Anya followed Raven out of the table to dance to ‘Wish You Would’.

Lexa smiled thinking about the title and her gaze inadvertently averted to Clarke, who was distractedly talking to Echo. The blonde somehow noticed it and looked back at Lexa, killing her with a smile.

Bellamy stood up too. “Hey girls, let’s go make sure Raven and Anya don’t engage in any improper mating rituals,” he snickered.

Echo laughed and stood up as well, excusing herself to Clarke and taking Bellamy’s hand in hers. Lexa registered that last detail with satisfaction.

Luna followed them and of course so did Jasper and Monty, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone with Lincoln and Octavia.

Those two, however, were too busy inspecting each other’s throats with their tongue-shaped probes to even pay attention to their respective best friends.

“Clarke,” Lexa called with a caring expression. “Let us drink together. And leave these two to their shenanigans,” she added bowing her head towards the couple she had personally dubbed Linctavia. Saying both their names separately was too much pointless work.

“It would be my pleasure,” the blonde laughed and stood up. “Show me the way, Commander.”

The two girls walked to the bar, where there were a couple of free seats in a row. They sat down and asked for drinks.

“A Caribou Lou,” Clarke ordered and turned to Lexa with a smirk. “I like my rappers.”

Lexa lifted an eyebrow and let amusement shine trough her eyes. “I’ll have a Negroni.”

“Be careful, Lexi. We’re meeting at 10am tomorrow.”

“Same goes your way.”

“I’m not a lightweight.”

“Neither am I.”

The drinks came and Lexa took a sip, feeling the alcohol roll down her throat. She loved the burning sensation.

“By the way, your friend with the ponytail would be wise to keep her hands off Anya.”

Clarke cackled. “Her name is Raven.”

Lexa waved her off. “Whatever.”

Clarke pointed with her drink at the dance floor, where Anya had her arms on Raven’s shoulders while the two danced soulfully.

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s your friend with the cheekbones that can’t keep her hands off Raven,” the blonde chuckled.

“Her name is Anya.”

Clarke smirked. “Whatever.”

“Mockery, Clarke? Not the brightest form of human interaction.”

“Certainly is the most entertaining, though.”

Lexa only rolled her eyes in response.

“I shouldn’t be here with you,” Clarke remarked. “This is my day.”

“Your day?”

“Bi Pride,” the blonde giggled. “Us sentimental fools that love the boys and the girls.”

“You can always join them if you want, I’m certain they are much better company than this broody shortie,” Lexa assured, referring to Clarke’s previous comment.

“Nah I’m good. Like you said, gotta save my energy for tomorrow.”

Lexa looked the blonde in the eyes, letting herself get lost in the endless blue. She didn’t even feel it when her lips tilted up to form one of her signature half smiles, so full of kindness and honesty.

The brunette soon felt she was grasping for air and turned her gaze to her Negroni. She exhaled, realising she had been holding her breath.

The music changed and Lexa grumbled. “Is this Taylor Swift night or what?”

Clarke raised a curious brow. “You know this song?”

“Of course, it is ‘How You Get The Girl’,” Lexa said like it was obvious.

Clarke broke out in laughter, much to the brunette’s confusion and dismay.

“Alexandria Woods,” the blonde started when she could finally breathe. “Are you secretly a Taylor Swift fan?”

Lexa felt the heat creep up her skin, tainting her face bright red. “No,” she mumbled almost unintelligibly.

Clarke could hold her laughter again and honestly, Lexa didn’t even mind that much. That sound was the most amazing thing she had ever heard.

“The broody gay Commander, lover of all things black and metal, is a Swiftie,” Clarke mocked without a hint of malice in her voice. She then sang along, “And now you say, ‘I want you for worse and for better, I would wait for ever and ever. Broke your heart, I’ll put it back together. I would wait for ever and ever’.”

 _And that’s how it works_ , the brunette hummed in her mind. _That’s how you get the girl._

“To tell you the truth, you are the first person ever to know that,” Lexa confessed.

“Anya and Lincoln don’t know?” Clarke asked in disbelief.

Lexa shook her head. “Not even Costia, my ex-girlfriend, knew about it.”

Clarke’s ears seemed to perk up. “Ex-girlfriend?”

“You know, both our hearts were broken for roughly the same reason. But in my case, I am the one to blame.”

“You cheated on her?” Clarke questioned and Lexa saw shadow of disappointment in her eyes. She felt the need to reach out and shoo it away.

“No, she cheated on me,” Lexa explained. “But I couldn’t forget it. I was never able to trust her again. So I broke her heart — and mine as a result.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how being cheated on and not being able to forget makes you guilty,” the blonde assessed with a deep frown. “She shouldn’t have cheated on you.”

“It was one time. She was sorry and apologised profusely. Costia was ready to move on past it and I should have been too.”

“No, Lexa. She cheated on you. It’s not something you just forgive and forget.”

“Should it not be, though?” the other girl asked sadly. “In the end, I was the one tearing us apart.”

“All you did was protect yourself. I would never blame you for that.”

“She did. I do.”

Clarke rested her hand on Lexa’s and looked intensely in her eyes. “Please don’t say that.”

Lexa swallowed around the lump in her throat. It felt weirdly good to have the blonde’s hand on hers. Somehow, Clarke was sort of a friend. One that annoyed her profusely and didn’t take any of her shit — those two things went both ways, really — but still a friend, albeit of the very unconventional kind.

Lexa would not mind being friends with Clarke. That was conceivable, doable even, without things escalating to a romantic level. But did the blonde feel the same way? Would she be willing to become friends?

Was Lexa happy with just friends? _Shut up_ , she quickly chastised herself mentally. Just friends was good. Just friends was great. After all, Clarke would never feel anything more than that for her. Not that Lexa cared.

“Let us heal our wounds, Clarke.” Lexa lifted her glass to the blonde. “To those we’ve lost.”

Clarke smiled and clinked her glass with Lexa’s. “And to those we shall soon find.” Both took a large gulp. “You know, the way you talk is really weird.”

Lexa’s eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise. “I might say the same thing about you.”

Clarke chuckled. “Then you’d have to say it about the whole world. Sorry to tell you, but you’re the weirdo, Lexa.”

“So be it. I would rather be weird and walk my own path than be common and follow the undistinguishable crowd.”

“Are you saying I’m common?” the blonde teased.

“Not at all. You are quite unique, Clarke,” she paused, savouring the name of the one whom the sun shone from within. “And a leader.”

“I am not a leader.”

“Maybe not consciously. But your friends do look up to you and follow your lead.”

Clarke rolled her eyes with an amused smile. “That’s because they know how awesome and wise I am.”

“Whatever career path you end up choosing, I am sure you will do greatly,” Lexa complimented genuinely. “Leadership is an innate talent. You are either born with it or you are not.”

“Alright, I’ll order expensive pizza tomorrow, you won me over,” Clarke laughed once again, still making light of Lexa’s words, which annoyed the girl deeply.

“I am serious. You were born for this, Clarke. Same as me.”

“Born for what?”

“To inspire.”

Clarke frowned and locked her eyes with Lexa’s. The brunette gulped, trying to keep her expression as unreadable as ever.

A ringtone interrupted the moment, startling both girls. Lexa immediately looked back at her drink and downed it without hesitation while Clarke answered her phone.

“Raven? Uhm yeah, ok… Yeah don’t worry… Sure, I’ll talk to O. Have fun with whoever you’re going home that is totally not Anya even though she’s gone too,” the blonde giggled and Lexa couldn’t help an amused snort. “Alright, love you, bye.” She hung up the phone.

“So I guess Anya and Raven decided to have some fun?” Lexa asked.

“You guess right. And now I have to find O.” Clarke frowned at her phone and dialled a number.

Meanwhile, Lexa checked her own phone and saw she had two unread texts.

 

**Anya [00:47]: Drive yourself home kid, I’m going home with sass brat**

**Anya [00:52]: Also, stop eye fucking Clarke. It’s embarrassing…**

Lexa felt her face smoulder.

Fortunately, Clarke did not see that, as she was still waiting for the recipient of her call to answer.

They did some seconds later. “O? Where are you? What?!” Clarke looked worried. “How am I supposed to go home? All right don’t worry, I’ll ask Bell or Jasper to take me to my mom’s. It’s the closest and besides I won’t have to hear you and Lincoln all night. Yes, you are that noisy. Just have fun, O. Bye, love you.”

Clarke hung up and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if to ask for strength from the heavens. “Great, now I’ll have to find one of the guys.”

An idea started to brew up in Lexa’s mind. _Lexa no._

 _Lexa yes._ “I could drive you.”

The blonde’s eyes widened as she clung on to hope. “Really? You would do that?”

“I checked your address on Google Maps yesterday, it is not too far away from my flat.”

“But you drank.”

“Barely. I am still very much sober.”

Clarke grabbed the brunette’s arm with both hands with so much intensity it almost hurt. “Oh my God Lexa, thank you so much!”

 

****

 

Clarke was happy with how things were evolving with Lexa. The girl wasn’t as unpleasant as she used to be, often managing to actually be nice.

Lexa did find herself too sapient for her own good in Clarke’s opinion, but it was funny to see the brunette go all William of Ockham on her. It had also been extremely funny to find out about Lexa’s secret love of Taylor Swift.

Furthermore, hearing about Lexa’s past had given the brunette a depth in Clarke’s eyes that she had been oblivious too. It pained her to know that the girl blamed herself for the end of a relationship that was so clearly not on her.

 _I think I can actually call her a friend_ , the blonde thought. _A very weird kind of friend, but one nonetheless._

Lexa had been silent the whole trip from the club, letting Clarke do all the talking. The blonde wasn’t sure she had heard any of it, but somehow felt that the brunette was paying full attention to her words.

“You can pull up here,” Clarke said suddenly. “I’ll just walk the last five minutes.”

Lexa stared at her, unconvinced. “Are you sure? It could be dangerous, Clarke.”

“Don’t worry, nothing ever happens in this neighbourhood.”

“I still do not fancy the idea.”

“Lexa,” the blonde said, not wanting to cause the other girl any more trouble. “There is nothing to worry about. It’s a five-minute walk.”

Lexa finally relented, though she still seemed doubtful. “Text me when you get home then. As much as I would love to get rid of my International Relations partner, I would not want to do it in a way that might make me look guilty.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. Had that been a flimsy attempt at humour?

“Still don’t have your number, remember?” she said, waving with her phone.

Lexa let out a frustrated sigh and snatched the phone from the blonde’s hand. She typed on it and handed it back to Clarke in less than a minute later.

“There you go,” the brunette said in an aggravated tone. Clarke could read through it and sense the amusement, though. “Now you have my number. Text me when you get home.”

Clarke grinned and opened the door to leave. She walked out of the old Toyota Yaris but turned back to Lexa before heading home.

“Drive safely.”

“Always.”

“And text me when you get home.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I will. Now go before it gets even later.”

Clarke closed the door and walked towards home. After slightly over a minute, she felt Lexa’s car drive away at last.

The blonde kept on walking and soon was only a minute away from home. It was already in her line of sight.

Lexa was overreacting so much. This was by far the safest neighbourhood in all of Polis, there was nothing to worry about.

“Clarke?”

She froze. That voice. Oh that voice. How could she ever forget it?

She slowly turned around, still not sure to trust her ears. She had always been a ‘seeing is believing’ kind of person.

There he was. Still devilishly handsome and wickedly alluring. His sweet brown eyes shining in the dark, his shoulder-length bad boy hair giving him that rapacious look that had attracted her in the first place.

“What are you doing here, Finn?”

He took a tentative step towards her.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Clarke.”

The girl couldn’t help unconsciously registering that the way he said her name was nowhere as pleasant as the way Lexa did.

“Well you should. I want you far away from me.”

This was not the first time she saw Finn since the breakup. Every time was a nerve-wracking, traumatising and incredibly creepy experience.

“But Clarke—“

“No, Finn,” she cut him off right away. “You’re only hung up on me still because I was the first girl to actually tell you to fuck off. Get over your fragile ego, Finn. It’s not attractive.”

He reached out to hold her arm but she yanked it away from him.

“Please Clarke, I told you I’ve changed. You know the thing with Raven meant nothing to me,” he pleaded.

“It’s not just ‘the thing with Raven’, you asshole,” she spat. “You cheated on me. Repeatedly. I always gave you another chance but then I gained some self-respect and couldn’t take it anymore. I left you because I love myself and you were like poison. You hurt me badly. I can’t have that again. I won’t. So please just stop trying to sneak back into my life!”

“Clarke…” Finn tried to grab her arm again and succeeded this time.

She pushed him violently away, making him fall backwards.

Clarke took the chance and ran all the way home as fast as she could bring herself to do so.

She finally got to the doorstep and searched her back for the keys. She finally found them and inserted them in the lock, turning them to open the door.

As soon as she was inside the house and the door was closed, Clarke let herself lean with her purse on it and slide onto the floor.

“It’s alright. You’re alright,” she repeated to herself in whispers.

Clarke pushed her knees up to her chest and rested her arms on them, hiding her face in the small nest her arms formed.

She couldn't tell anyone about what had happened. Everyone would worry needlessly.

Finn was like a drug.

Clarke knew if she ever let herself touch the spinning wheel, she would fall into a blind sleep once again, maybe forever. And then there would be no blessed wake up call.

She couldn’t, therefore, even risk prick her finger.

Clarke forced her mind to go back to earlier that night. Her group and Lexa’s were starting to merge together nicely.

Her brain then reminded her that she had not been to pick anyone up that evening. Truth be told, she had not been able to pick anyone up for quite a few weeks. Clarke was losing the track she had won previously in her bet against Octavia.

Feeling she was now able to return to her Finn-less life, Clarke stood up and headed up the stairs to her room. Abby was probably asleep by then.

She quickly pulled out her phone and texted her new contact.

 

**Unknown Number [01:23]: home. thanks for driving me :)**

 

Clarke changed into her pyjamas — she always had clothes ready at her mom’s — and brushed her teeth. She then slid into bed, letting the covers warm her up.

Her phone buzzed and Clarke checked it and smiled at the impersonal tone of the text. It was so Lexa.

 

**Lexa [01:32]: Good. No problem. Home too.**

**Clarke [01:34]: see you tomorrow then ;)**

**Lexa [01:41]: See you tomorrow. Good night, Clarke.**

**Clarke [01:43]: good night Lexa**

 

Clarke’s last thoughts went to Lexa and how she would have to wake up early tomorrow to get everything ready for the brunette’s arrival. Lexa seemed like an awfully neat person and Clarke would not let her look around the house with her usual judgemental glare. And her deep green eyes.

Clarke fell asleep thinking of the colour green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Finn guy smh
> 
> Oh and will Clarke be able to keep her encounter with him a secret?


	7. the starers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want me to stop?” Clarke asked attentively.  
> Lexa shook her head.  
> “No. Just,” the brunette blushed slightly and looked down at the slice of pizza in her hands, “do not read it out loud.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke has an epiphany and Lexa meets the parent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO FINALLY GOT A JOB. Not me. Someone probably did but not me. Moving on (from the lame jokes).
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the kudos and kind comments, it really means the world to me. So thank you :)
> 
> This chapter is the hugest thing I've ever seen. Huger than the huge amount of huge gayness Lexa has for Clarke. Oh yes. THAT huge. I could have split it in two but I really wanted it to end like this so oh well. Also, I kinda went full meta at some point.
> 
> So! Without further ado.
> 
> Let the chronicles of oblivious Clarke begin!
> 
> (also I'm sorry for any mistakes, it's 2am here and I really want to go to sleep xD)

Clarke woke up before the alarm even buzzed and jumped out of bed like she had been awake for hours. She felt a strange energy run through her body.

Clarke never woke up before nine o’clock. All her classes were after that and honestly, her body couldn’t bear waking up early. She did not understand how some people woke up at eight, much less at seven or six.

So imagine Clarke’s surprise when her brain voluntarily decided to shoot her body awake at five freaking am. The excitement bubbling up her spine was something she was finding difficult to explain.

She should be tired as hell, as sleep had only come to her near two am last night, but in fact Clarke just could not stand still. Clarke had no logical explanation for the hyperactive state she was in.

In less than an hour, she had already taken a bath, got dressed and dried her hair and was now finishing cleaning up her room.

Not that she was expecting Lexa to come up to her room; the girl had no business being there — but just in case. Who knew, they might need to fetch a stapler or something.

The sudden thought of Lexa in her room came as weirdly welcome to Clarke. Well, they were friends now after all; unspoken friends but still very much that. So of course the idea was not unwelcome, why would she have any problem with Lexa coming up to her room? Why wouldn’t Clarke want Lexa to be there?

 _Why would you_ , a little voice in the back of her mind mischievously asked in whispers. She didn’t hear it — or at least pretended not to.

One more hour and Clarke’s room was all cleaned up and perfect and she was already having breakfast, supposing that Lexa was an early lunch eater. Having breakfast early would not hinder her appetite at lunchtime.

At slightly past nine am, Abby was downstairs and ready to leave for work. She saw Clarke sitting on the couch in the living room and watching TV.

“You slept here, honey?” Abby asked.

Clarke got up and gave her mom a kiss. “Yeah, a friend is coming over. PoliSci stuff.”

The blonde knew her mother was always supportive when it came to that major or prepping for Med School; anything Arts related, not so much.

“Good, good. Have fun, then. Study a lot. Love you.”

Abby planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead and left.

As soon as the front door closed, Clarke received a text.

 

**soRaven [09:11]: hey Griffin, not gonna be able to watch our show w you on sunday**

**The Griffin [09:15]: oh come on Rae you know this is our thing. It’s our weekly Princess Mechanic moment ;)**

**soRaven [09:18]: yeah and as much as I’d like to know how much thought you actually put into coming up with that lame name I can’t**

**The Griffin [09:20]: it’s not lame**

**soRaven [09:22]: poor Princess you have such a huge crush on me**

**The Griffin [09:23]: shut up Reyes you have a crush on me**

**soRaven [09:25]: wanna do something about it one of these days? ;))**

**The Griffin [09:27]: stop being gross, woman**

Clarke laughed. She imagined Raven was laughing even harder at the other end of the line. That was their kind of banter.

 

**The Griffin [09:29]: so who or what are you standing me up for?**

**soRaven [09:32]: Anya needs help with some photography field trip or whatever. whole weekend. gotta please the lady**

**The Griffin [09:34]: speaking like a true girlfriend**

**soRaven [09:35]: maybe I am**

**The Griffin [09:37]: I’m really happy for you Rae. Enjoy <3**

**soRaven [09:40]: no we may not engage in a threesome when I get back, Griffin**

**The Griffin [09:42]: I wouldn’t even if you paid me**

**soRaven [09:45]: I’m offended**

**soRaven [09:47]: have you a significant other you would rather bed, Lady Griffin?**

**The Griffin [09:49]: you know I’d always pick you first**

**The Griffin [09:51]: and gosh you sounded like Lexa just now**

**soRaven [09:53]: got lexa on your mind?**

**The Griffin [09:54]: ew no**

**The Griffin [09:56]: it’s just she’s coming over now to work on IR**

**soRaven [09:59]: uuuhhh kissy kissy time pour the Princess and the Commander, I see things will get pretty caliente**

Clarke rolled her eyes at how far from the truth that was. She would have even answered, perhaps by flipping her friend off or telling her to go do something colourful to herself, had the bell not rung at that precise moment.

Clarke looked at her father’s watch, the only significant memory she had of him. 10 o’clock. Not one minute later.

She walked to the lobby and opened the door.

Lexa was standing outside, hands clasped in front of her body, head held high but green eyes adorably looking down. She looked up as the door opened.

Lexa was wearing greyish blue ripped skinny pants with knee-high black boots and a black crochet jumper. Her long chestnut hair was pulled away from her face and stranded in intricate braids.

“Bet you’ve been there for like five minutes waiting for it to be exactly ten o’clock,” Clarke smirked from where she stood, leaning across the doorframe.

“Hello to you too, Clarke.”

The blonde smiled. This was their dynamic.

Still standing outside, Lexa raised her eyebrows. Clarke facepalmed mentally and pushed herself off the door, getting out of the way so the brunette could come in.

Clarke led Lexa to the living-slash-dining room and immediately she could feel Lexa’s eyes roaming around, probably assessing everything in silence.

Clarke’s phone started ringing and she looked at the screen. It was Octavia.

“Hey Lexa, I just need to take this call, be back in a minute,” she said. Lexa nodded. “Make yourself at home.”

Clarke left the room and walked upstairs. She took the call in the middle of the hallway.

“Sup O?”

“Oh my god Raven was right,” the voice on the other end of the line said in amazement.

“What?”

“You really are up already. And to host Lexa.”

Clarke heard a gagging sound and rolled her eyes.

“Shut up O.”

Octavia sighed. “You’re no fun, Clarkey.”

“I know.”

“Great!” Clarke could almost feel the brunette put on her smug smile. “Good thing that I have the solution to all your problems. I propose a change to our bet.”

Clarke frowned. Bet? Oh, the bet. Right. She had almost forgotten.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Octavia talked only after a dramatic beat, “Lexa.”

“What?”

What the hell did Lexa have to do with the bet?

“It’s simple, really. You’re missing about thirty people, right?”

Clarke was no less puzzled than before. “Right.”

“Well, Lexa is the big prize. The N. Tropy level. The bullseye,” Octavia finished with a click of her tongue.

“Wait, are you actually saying—“

“Bang her and you win,” the brunette finished.

That was an unexpected turn of events. So unexpected that it was actually hilarious. And as such, Clarke laughed.

Oh and did Clarke laugh. She laughed so much that she had to lean against the wall so as not to lose her balance. She laughed for so long that Octavia had to cut her off with a disgruntled growl.

“Ok, I get it, bad idea, enough!”

Clarke was still having difficulty breathing. “I’m sorry O, it’s just that it’s so ridiculous.”

“I don’t see what’s so ridiculous about it. I think it’s a great idea.”

“Me in bed with the Ice Queen?” Clarke let out a laugh. "That’s what’s so ridiculous about it.”

“Thirty points, Clarkey. You would automatically win. I think it’s worth the effort.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’d have no problem getting her in bed with me, I just don’t want to. It’s Lexa, for crying out loud. I’d rather get the cooties.”

“To be fair, with me dating Lincoln and Raven dating Anya, it would be dangerous to get on the bad side of Hades over there,” Octavia rationalised.

“That too. See? You’re kind of smart when you want to.”

“Fuck you Griffin.”

Clarke grinned even though she knew her friend couldn’t see her.

“Love you too O. Have to go now. Enjoy The Princess Bride.”

“How did you—“

“I know you too well, buddy.”

The last thing Clarke heard was some indistinct grunting and then she hung up.

When her phone rang again she didn’t even care to check the caller ID.

“Couldn’t go a minute without missing me, O?” she mocked.

“Clarke?”

Her body froze. She was pretty sure her brain froze as well. Maybe time did too.

“What the fuck do you want, Finn?” she berated. “Didn’t I tell you to fuck off last night? What part of ‘get the fuck out of my life’ didn’t you get?” She was rifling through it, not giving him time to even mutter a response. “No, you know what? Don’t answer that. Just don’t answer it. I don’t want to hear your constipated fuckboy voice. Goodbye, Finn. Don’t ever call me again.”

Clarke pressed the end call button with so much conviction she was afraid she’d broken the screen.

She leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and took two deep breaths, calming herself. It worked.

Clarke opened her eyes. Lexa was downstairs waiting for her.

 

****

 

Ok, so Lexa did care.

Clarke was her friend now, after all. And yes, she might have been just a little bit excited about coming over to the blonde’s house.

But again: just friends. They would be no more than that. Lexa couldn’t afford it.

So yes, Lexa did care. But from now on she would care only as much as any other friend.

That was exactly why so far, with two hours of study already, she had only blushed once and got lost in Clarke’s eyes twice. Lexa deserved to pat herself on the back — that was probably a record. All thanks to her steely self-control.

That or because of the fact that Clarke’s phone hadn’t stopped ringing for the entirety of the two hours Lexa had been there.

How could she concentrate on Clarke’s indigo marvels when the blonde’s phone kept on doing that annoying sound phones do when they’re vibrating against a surface and shaking with little spins on the tabletop, the screen lighting up every two seconds?

No. It was all due to her remarkable willpower and self-control.

The phone started buzzing again and Lexa was barely able to conceal her internal groan. There was no point in lying: it was the damn phone that was keeping her eyes off Clarke.

Faking nonchalance, Lexa raised an eyebrow at Clarke, who bit her lip while glancing nervously at her phone.

“Are you going to take that?”

Clarke looked at Lexa like she had just noticed the brunette was there. Great.

“Hmm? No. We’re working.”

“You can take the call, Clarke,” Lexa countered with sighed annoyance in her voice.

“Yeah but I don’t want to.”

“You should not worry about taking calls just because you’re with me. I would and will not consider it rude.”

“It’s not because I’m with you,” Clarke clarified, rejecting the call. “I won’t answer because Finn is a son of a bitch I’m tired of him thinking he can mess with me like he did last night.”

Lexa’s expression turned instantly from aggravated to alarmed and she could see sudden panic and regret shadow Clarke’s face for a second. The blonde clearly had had no intention of saying that out loud.

“What did you just say?” Lexa pressed, a mix of worry and irritation — with a hint of anger — in her voice. “Finn as in your ex-boyfriend? And last night, when you told me to drop you off a mile away saying this was, and I quote, ‘the safest neighbourhood in town’?”

“Yeah but Finn—“

“Finn, your boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Psycho ex-boyfriend, apparently.”

Clarke ducked her head in embarrassment. Lexa felt anger simmering inside her, all directed at that egregiously vile lout called Finn, both for making Clarke suffer and making her feel ashamed of herself.

The blonde had nothing to be ashamed of from Lexa’s point of view. She was a smart, beautiful and talented young woman with one too many heartbreaks and, Lexa was sure, more of a sad backstory than she let out.

Lexa knew this from the sadness in her blue eyes. Eyes that sometimes turned from cerulean heaven to a stormy grey sky. Lexa was sure that if given the chance she would never make those blue eyes blue.

She did not understand how anyone would want to play with Clarke’s heart, let alone hurt her. How could anyone be so unaware of his or her own luck to open hand of such a beautiful creature?

Lexa was pretty sure that dating Clarke would be a gift, not a burden.

She interrupted those thoughts almost as fast as she had let them free. Those were not ‘just friends’ things to say.

Instead, she focused on her anger towards that Finn Collins sociopath, whom she had never even met but already hated.

On that and her need to shield her crush— I mean, _friend_ , from the whole world.

Lexa stood up, flatting her palms on the table and looking down at the other girl with a deep frown. “For fuck’s sake Clarke, you can’t go around unprotected.”

With that, she stormed out of the house, leaving an astonished Clarke behind.

 

****

 

Twenty minutes later and with her phone already turned off, Clarke was still in a stupor.

Lexa had left without so much as the semblance of an explanation after their argument over Finn — which, Clarke was quite certain, had nothing to do with Lexa (even though she had been the one bringing up the topic) — and had not come back since.

Clarke was fairly sure she wouldn’t come back at all.

Sure, her things were all still there so she would have to come back at some point — or just send one of her friends for her — but Clarke highly doubted that Lexa would intentionally show herself for at least another week.

So much so that when the doorbell rang and Clarke walked over to open it, she was expecting pretty much anyone but the green-eyed brunette who with only two inches on her always seemed to tower over Clarke.

“Lexa,” she gasped and was actually happy to see that her friend had returned. “What got into you?”

The brunette walked in, returning to the living room as if she had never left. Only then did Clarke notice that her right hand had a tight grip on some sort of can. Lexa handed it to her once they were finally facing each other.

Clarke looked down to look at the item that had been practically shoved into her hand. Pepper spray.

Lexa had gone out of her way to buy pepper spray for her. The realisation brought a smile to her lips.

When Clarke looked up, she couldn’t help but register the red in the brunette’s ears.

She thought that the way the girl always got embarrassed when or after being nice (probably took huge effort) was endearingly funny.

“Try not to lose that,” Lexa said stiffly. “It should help you feel safer. And keep dickheads like Finn at bay.”

Another smile tugged at the corners of Clarke’s mouth. She found Lexa’s green eyes and tried to convey her gratitude with as much kindness as she could pour into a stare.

She was surprised to find out just how much care her gaze bore when directed at the brunette.

She was also surprised to find renewed redness creep up Lexa’s cheeks.

 

//

 

Clarke returned to the room holding a huge pizza box in her hands.

“Lunch is served, Miss Woods.”

The two girls sat on the dinner table, a few seats away from their studying spots. Clarke opened the box and Lexa was fast to grab a slice, making the blonde laugh.

“You’re hungry!”

“So hungry,” Lexa spoke with her mouth full and for once it did not annoy Clarke. She actually found it pretty adorable.

“Do you have any nicknames besides Commander?” Clarke asked with a smirk.

She saw Lexa hesitate before responding. “My father called me Lexatron.” Clarke raised an amused eyebrow and the brunette quickly added, “I really liked Transformers. Especially Megatron. He was the bad guy.”

“That is unbelievably cute.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and ignored Clarke’s comment. “Costia loved to poke fun at me by calling me Spinelli.”

Clarke couldn’t contain another amused expression as she took two other slices of pizza, one for each. Who knew past Lexa was such a lovable dork?

“And there is another one,” the girl said with an embarrassed frown, “but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“That’s not fair! You can’t tell me not to laugh, of course I’ll laugh now,” Clarke protested, already holding back a chuckle. “It’s like the forbidden apple thing.”

Lexa shrugged. “Then I just don’t tell you.”

“Ok, ok. I won’t laugh.”

“Promise?”

“Can’t exactly promise but I’ll do my best.”

Clarke watched as Lexa seemed to dwell on her words. After some seconds, she seemed to decide that Clarke’s best was enough.

Lexa’s cheeks became scarlet before she even started talking. “Whenever I have been... alone for more than two months, Anya calls me SexLex.”

Clarke tried. She really did.

However, a loud snort escaped her throat and suddenly she was laughing out loud while apologising repeatedly to a jaw-clenching, eye-rolling Lexa.

“You said you would not laugh.”

“I said I’d do my best,” Clarke corrected. “And I really did.”

Lexa pouted and the blonde couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Oh come on Lexa, you have to admit that it’s funny.”

“Maybe.”

“Quite adorable too.”

“I am not adorable, Clarke,” Lexa stated with a serious expression that made her look even cuter. “I am fierce.”

“Sure you are, Tyra.”

The brunette rolled her eyes again.

A question popped on Clarke’s mind. Immediately she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake it unless she asked it.

“Has Anya been calling you that name lately?”

Clarke was pretty sure that she should not be so interested in the answer.

Lexa’s cheeks turned crimson once more. “…Yes.”

Clarke let go of a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Well then we have to change that,” she said matter-of-factly.

Lexa choked on her pizza and her cheeks got even more flustered than before, which Clarke thought was not even possible.

The blonde ran around the table and kneeled beside the brunette, massaging her back in an attempt to soothe the coughing.

“W-what do you mean?” Lexa asked when she was finally able to talk.

“I mean we have to get you some booty,” Clarke grinned, her face less than a half meter away from the brunette’s.

Lexa found her blue eyes and stranded them to her green.

Clarke found herself gulping and felt the sudden urge to avert her gaze from the jade immensity.

That was when her stare locked with the small leather-bound notebook peeking out of Lexa’s bag. The little book called for her in a soft, tantalising voice and she couldn’t help but reach for it.

Clarke was fast to grab the book, earning a gasp from Lexa, and ran back to her chair. The brunette’s expression, however, made her change her mind.

“I’m sorry,” was all Clarke said as she slid the book across the table to Lexa.

The other girl heaved a resigned sigh. “No.” She handed the notebook back to Lexa. “You can read it if you want.”

Clarke’s expression hardened. “I don’t want to read it if you don’t want me to.”

“I guess you can say I don’t _not_ want you to read it.”

The blonde smiled kindly. “Just say if you want me to stop.”

The brunette nodded and Clarke opened the book.

Lexa’s eloquent streak suddenly made sense. It was there, plastered in the white, sheet after sheet, line after line. It was all there, poem after poem of beautiful words and entangling rhythm.

Suddenly, Lexa herself made sense.

Clarke guessed that her writing had started after her breakup with Costia. It was full of sorrow and guilt. Tragic metaphors haunting every line, tears hanging from every letter, rage seething from every touch of the pen against the worn-out paper.

But what truly made Clarke’s heart ache for the girl whose mind had thought up every word she now read was the self-hatred seeping from every word. It was there, daunting and honest and beautiful. It was all there.

As Clarke read through the pages, she felt the revolt simmering down and being replaced by a kind of desire for peace. Never quite there but wanting it, reaching for it, needing it.

In one of the pages, Clarke found words she had already heard come out of Lexa’s full lips.

 

_Love is a lie told by the wind to make us believe that life goes the way our heart rules_

_Love is a lie created by Shakespeare to warm the hearts of mindless fools_

_Love is the epitome of human stupidity and the pinnacle of misdirection_

_Love is a leprechaun we chase like a crest full of gold or the key to salvation_

_Love is a tale of broken feathers, tears falling down the eyes of hopeless hearts_

_Love is a cruel illusion of feeling and sensation, a sum that does not equal its parts_

_Love is a shattered crystal swan singing for the inevitability of oblivion_

_Love is a dark dove screaming for war, ready to take whatever is given_

_What a fool I was to believe that love was real_

_That you might love me and I might love you someday_

_What a fool I was to think that my heart could truly feel_

_Something more than misery and a smudge of empty grey_

Clarke looked up at Lexa, her mouth slightly agape.

“Lexa, this— this is beautiful.”

“It is just a handful of mindless thoughts,” the brunette shrugged feigning nonchalance. “Sometimes when life gets harder you have to find a way pour your heart out so as to keep it busy while you listen to your head.”

“What do you mean?”

“Head over heart. Your heart is like a child, if you give it enough toys to play with it will not bother the adults. The head needs to think and speak without interference.”

“Well first of all, that’s not how you raise a child,” Clarke quipped with annoyance, lifting a finger. She next lifted a second finger. “Second of all, what in the actual fuck, Lexa? Everything in life requires balance; you have to listen to both your head _and_ your heart. Giving priority to one over the other can be destructive.”

“My method has worked out fairly well so far.”

“Has it, Lexa? Has it really?” the blonde insisted. “Because these poems tell a different story.”

“Read on,” the brunette incited. “You will see what I mean.”

In all fairness, as Clarke advanced, each poem was more peaceful than the one that preceded it.

Still, she couldn’t accept Lexa’s theory. It was wrong. It had to be, if not how could happiness and hope and love even exist? No. It was wrong.

Still, Clarke decided not to press on the matter. It was an argument for another time.

She got to the second to last page and read through the poem.

Her fingers touched the paper to finally uncover the last page when she felt Lexa’s body stiffen in front of her.

Clarke looked up.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked attentively.

Lexa shook her head. “No. Just,” the brunette blushed slightly and looked down at the slice of pizza in her hands, “do not read it out loud.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of Clarke's lips. “Oh I am so doing that.”

Lexa smiled one of her half smiles, leaving Clarke in a daze for a second.

Then she got up and rounded the table.

Clarke yelped and jumped out of her chair, notebook in hand, running away from her friend who was trying to catch her with an amused glint in her eyes.

Lexa was taller, stronger and obviously faster (Clarke had never been into the whole exercising thing) so it was no time before she caught the blonde, right in front of the couches.

Clarke let herself fall on the biggest one, dragging Lexa down with her.

The brunette sat up and straddled Clarke’s waist, trying to reach for the notebook, but the blonde stretched her arms above her head, keeping it out of Lexa’s reach.

“I met a girl,” Clarke read as she laughed. “Ooooh Lexa met a girl. This one’s interesting.”

Lexa tried for the book but failed to reach it again.

“I met a girl,” Clarke resumed, “with the sky in her eyes, grey and brewing up a storm, and so, so blue.”

Lexa gave up on trying to snatch the book from the blonde’s hands and simply focused on the husky voice as the words danced through in the air around them.

Clarke’s voice adopted a serious tone. “I met a girl with the ocean in her smile, wide and beautiful, and so, so true. I met a girl with a laughter like the wind: it knocks you off your feet but it’s so, so good.” There was an almost imperceptible pause and Clarke finished, “I met a girl with the sun shining in her hair, its light leads me everywhere — leads me straight to you.”

They remained in silence.

Clarke was the first to break it. “Little Lexi is in love,” she teased, poking at the brunette’s belly. The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Who is it?”

Lexa looked intensely into her eyes and for a moment Clarke swore she could get lost in the warm and soft green of that stare.

She also thought she saw it dart momentarily down to her lips, but shoved the thought to the back of her head. That was impossible.

“I am not telling anything about it,” Lexa said, getting off Clarke and standing up beside the couch.

“I could help you, you know?” the blonde suggested, her voice raspy from lying down.

“Help me with what?”

“Getting the girl,” Clarke smiled as an idea brewed up inside her head. “I could help you up your game. Get any girl you want, no one would be able to resist you. Then she would surely be yours.”

“ _Any_ girl I want?” Lexa repeated, apparently tempted by the offer. Suddenly, Clarke wished she wasn’t. She kept those silly thoughts at bay.

“Any girl you want,” Clarke confirmed. “If you help me up, of course. I’m not all martial arts black belt like you, Lexa San.”

Lexa smiled — the only way she knew how to do it but oh, what a way — and extended her hand to Clarke, helping her up.

Soon they were standing face to face and Lexa wore a determined expression on her face.

“I take the offer, Clarke,” she said. “Help me be able to get any girl I want.”

 

****

 

Lexa was pretty much screwed.

She couldn’t chastise herself, though. She had seen a window of opportunity and jumped through it head first.

Now the ground was dangerously close and she didn’t have a parachute.

She couldn’t pursue a relationship, she couldn’t pursue a relationship, she couldn’t pursue a relationship.

Besides, Clarke clearly saw her as nothing more than a friend.

After several hours, it was finally time to leave the Griffin household (at long last!) but first, she had to pass the final test.

That final test took the shape of a brown-haired woman in her forties with the same annoyingly stubborn expression as Clarke and probably half of her genes. Lexa wished she had left just five minutes sooner.

“Hello,” the woman greeted offering a hand, not without a healthy dose of distrust. “I’m Abby, Clarke’s mom.”

Lexa took it confidently and shook it. “My name is Lexa, ma’am. I am working with Clarke on our International Relations assignment.”

The girl noticed Clarke’s approving smile through the corner of her eye.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lexa. So I take it you’re doing the same major as Clarke?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Your parents must be very proud of you.”

Lexa flinched at the question but recovered right after. “My parents are dead, ma’am.”

She watched Abby’s reaction with curiosity. The older woman seemed surprised but like the Mayor Lexa knew she was (and had not voted for), she showed her aptitude at leaping over the logs in the way.

“I am sorry, Lexa. I am sure they would be very proud of you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“But how do you pay for college?”

Clarke facepalmed, Lexa clenched her jaw. This was looking more like an interrogation than a fleeting encounter.

“I work, Mrs Griffin. Everything was paid with hard work.”

“What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”

Yes, she did mind. She minded very much, actually.

“I teach martial arts, ma’am,” Lexa replied politely. “In a gym co-owned by me.”

“Alright, mom, enough!” Clarke exclaimed, taking Lexa’s hand and dragging her away from Abby.

Lexa swallowed at the soft feel of the blonde’s hand in hers. She wouldn’t mind a few extra interrogation sessions if it meant that she got to hold Clarke’s hand again.

Yep, Lexa really was screwed.

Clarke led her to and out the front door, standing with her outside and away from Abby’s prying eyes.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” the blonde ducked her head in embarrassment. “She’s just— I don’t even know, she’s something. A lot of it. Too much even.”

“I do not mind, Clarke,” Lexa assured. “I had a good time. And we made a lot of progress, I think we are ahead of schedule.”

“Who knows, maybe you will get rid of me sooner than you think,” the blonde joked.

Lexa snorted. “Hopefully. Seriously though, you are not so bad, Griffin.”

“You are not so bad yourself, Woods.”

Clarke smirked and Lexa felt herself melt for the wondrous creature standing in front of her. Holy cannoli, she had to leave.

Lexa turned around and walked away. She looked over her shoulder to wave at the blonde girl.

“See you around, Clarke.”

 

****

 

“Was that really necessary?”

Abby rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Clarke, I was just asking a few questions.”

Clarke groaned, exasperated. “A few questions? You call that a few questions? A few questions is ‘hi how are you? Did you enjoy yourself? Oh the weather is so good today, don’t you think? Okay nice to meet you, bye!’ That is a few questions!”

“That is small talk. I don’t do small talk, sweetie.”

“You asked her about her dead parents!”

“I didn’t know they were dead,” Abby reasoned.

“Neither did I! And I didn’t get to say I was sorry because you were the one getting it out of her!” Clarke was going crazy with her mom’s utter lack of sensibility and sensitivity. “She’s _my_ friend, mom. I am supposed to be the one knowing about those things and saying I’m sorry.”

Abby raised her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry that I stepped over the line, Clarke. But good thing that I did because I don’t know that she’s a good influence in your life.”

Clarke’s jaw fell down to the ground. “What?”

“I mean, she is not from this reality and did you hear about the martial arts thing? Those things are violent. She could be a violent person.”

Clarke folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Well I think it’s amazing. It’s amazing that even coming from a background worse than mine she fought her way up to be toe to toe with me, at exactly the same level,” the girl argued. “Actually, she’s in a higher level because she has the better grades. Lexa is the best student in PoliSci, mom.”

“That is in fact impressive,” Abby conceded.

“Also, how can you say she’s violent when she gave me this,” Clarke said, grabbing her purse and taking out the can of pepper spray Lexa had given her. “Lexa gave me this to help me stay away from danger. You still think she’s violent?”

“No, but now I think she has a crush on you.”

Clarke laughed at the ridiculousness of that statement.

“Believe me mom, she doesn’t,” the girl said with a certainty in her voice that left no room for doubt. “Lexa is madly in love with some girl she met. You should read the poem she wrote for her. It’s so sweet it’s almost gross. Almost. Because it’s also adorable.”

“Alright,” Abby accepted finally. “I trust you not to get involved with the wrong people, anyway.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. This was the best she would get out of her mom. Which wasn’t even a problem, since she was going back to her flat that very morning.

 

//

 

“I’m home, nutjobs!”

Clarke closed the door and threw her purse on the couch. She would put it away later.

Raven showed up with a big grin. “Well hello, Miss Griffin. Someone decided to return to the land of the living.”

“I’m so fucking tired,” Clarke groaned. “And my mom can’t go a day without bugging me about something.”

“What did she do this time?” the brunette asked with a smirk.

Clarke got her purse back from the couch and sifted through it until she found what she was looking for.

“This time it was this,” the girl turned to her friend with the pepper spray in hand.

“Whoa, put that thing down!” Raven jumped back. “Worried someone’s going to try and attack you inside this flat?”

Clarke quickly put the can back in the purse.

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’d never spray you.”

Raven laughed. “Yeah but with your impeccable aim you would probably end up hitting me anyway.”

Clarke shot her a playful glare.

The two girls invaded the couch, Clarke sitting on one side and Raven lying down with her head on the blonde’s lap.

“Why did you get that anyway?” Raven asked, a mix of curiosity and worry in her eyes.

“I didn’t,” Clarke explained with a nonchalant shrug. “Lexa got it for me.”

Raven made no effort to mask her bewilderment. “Lexa? As in broody, rude and annoying Lexa?”

“She’s not all that bad,” the blonde argued with a roll of her eyes. “You just don’t know her like I do.”

“Yeah, clearly I don’t,” Raven scoffed. “And now you take that thing everywhere with you?”

Clarke shrugged again. “Lexa’s orders.”

The brunette raised an eyebrow.

“Why would she even give that to you?”

“I told her about Finn and how he’s a bit of a stalker,” Clarke half-lied. “So she wanted to make sure next time I find him I’m ready to shoo him away.”

“So now you’re all snuggly friends with her?” Raven scorned.

“Nah, you know I only snuggle with you.”

“I feel flattered. Actually you’re the one that should feel flattered for snuggling with me.”

“Whatever you say, Rae Rey,” Clarke laughed.

“But you two are friends now, right?”

The blonde mused on the question and a smile found its way to her lips.

“Yeah. Yeah we are.”

She missed the eyebrow her friend quirked at that smile.

 

****

 

“Hey nerd,” were the first two words she said to her phone.

“Hey O. Stop calling me that. I’m not a nerd, I’m just smart.”

“You have multiple degrees. Clarke is smart. You’re a nerd.”

Octavia could almost hear Raven’s eyes rolling.

“Whatever,” the mechanic said from the other side of the line. “So, you want to hear why called or what?”

“Does it beat cuddling with Lincoln?”

“I think so.”

The small brunette smiled to her phone. “Shoot it.”

“Did you know that Clarke was with Lexa all day?”

“Yeah, Linc told me. They were working on that boring assignment together.”

“Ok, your boyfriend beat me to that,” Raven relented. “But did you know that Lexa gave Clarke a can of pepper spray to keep her safe?”

Octavia leapt up from the couch and into the kitchen, away from the room she was sharing with Lincoln.

“Say what?”

“Lexa Woods, uber bitch, gave Clarke Griffin a can of pepper spray to keep her safe.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me! You’re good at realising that kind of stuff out.” Raven couldn’t resist adding, “The only thing you’re better at than me.”

“Bitch, please,” Octavia sniggered.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you with that. I have to go.”

“Give Anya my wettest kiss,” the small brunette teased. “Probably still not as wet as you two.”

“Congrats, O. You made a dirty joke. A very bad one at that.”

“Shut up, Reyes. Go bang your girlfriend.”

“Oh I will,” Raven laughed and hung up.

Octavia rested her hands on her hips, still dwelling on the pepper spray case. Peppergate! Oh, that was a good name.

She smiled smugly, proud of herself. And then it hit her.

“Lincoln!” she called out, running back to her spot next to him on the couch.

He looked at her in confusion.

“Yeah, babe?”

Octavia set her most resolute, serious stare on her boyfriend.

“Don’t say you don’t know because I know you do and remember you can’t lie to me because I’m your girlfriend and the person that rocks your world every other night,” she started.

He chuckled. “Alright. Shoot at me then.”

“Does Lexa have a crush on Clarke?”

 

****

 

Clarke checked the caller ID and smiled as she brought the phone up to her ear.

She almost jumped when Octavia’s voice screamed “Clarkey!”

“What do you want, O?”

Clarke heard her friend gasp. “Can’t I randomly call my best friend?”

“No, you either just text me or straight up break into my room like the door isn’t even closed. Remember that time with Bellamy?”

“That’s a taboo topic and you know it,” Octavia snarled.

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh I know it. Still grosses me out that I actually slept with your brother.”

“Taboo means no talking!”

“Oops sorry. Now tell me why you called.”

“Remember that offer I made you about Lexa being worth twenty people and all?” Octavia said hesitantly. “Well forget about it.”

Clarke chuckled. “Already had.”

She heard a sigh of relief coming from the other end of the line.

“Good. And Clarke?”

“Yeah O?”

“Be careful.”

Clarke cocked an eyebrow. “With what?”

“Lexa.”

The blonde unconsciously assumed a defensive stance. “What is that even about?” she snapped.

“I don’t know, I just don’t trust her,” Octavia explained. “So please just be careful, yeah?”

Clarke smiled. Her friend was only looking out for her.

“Don’t worry, Lexa is annoying as fuck but she’s actually a sort of nice person.”

Just as she was about to hang up, Clarke remembered something. “Oh by the way O, can you do Sunday evening? Rave is spending the weekend with Anya so you’re kind of my backup plan.”

“Sorry Clarkey, Linc and I are spending the weekend together too,” Octavia said with an apologetic tone. “Maybe Jas or Monty or Bell can watch it with you?”

Clarke grimaced at the thought of sharing her favourite show with one of the guys. Oh the life of a single woman. She would have to find somebody else.

“Yeah don’t worry O, I’ll ask around. See you tomorrow, love you.”

“Love you too, C.”

 

****

 

**Clarke [14:22]: I won’t lie, you’re like my fifth backup plan. would you PLEASE come over tonight to watch my fav show?**

**Clarke [14:23]: I literally have no one else to ask**

Lexa looked at her phone in astonishment. Clarke Griffin, certainly an angel that fell from the sky by accident, wanted to actually spend some leisure time with her on a Sunday?

 _You’re her fifth backup plan_ , a derisive voice in the back of her head tore at her. And so what? Fifth was better than none.

 

**Lexa [15:52]: It would be my pleasure if it is not too late.**

 

She didn’t have to wait for a response.

 

**Clarke [15:53]: oh thank god you answered. not too late at all :)**

**Lexa [15:54]: So is the invite still on the table?**

**Clarke [15:55]: very much :) still wanna be tortured by great tv?**

**Lexa [15:56]: Your taste cannot be THAT bad…**

**Clarke [15:57]: well you’re a lesbian so you might like it. every other lesbian I know likes it**

**Lexa [15:58]: Lesbians do move in packs.**

**Lexa [15:59]: Small problem. I have training till 7pm and no car.**

**Clarke [16:00]: my dear Lexi, I have the answer to all your problems**

**Clarke [16:01]: I’ll pick you up at 7.30. so be clean and fragrant before entering my car**

**Lexa [16:02]: Thank you Clarke**

**Clarke [16:03]: thank YOU, you just saved my life!**

Lexa was intrigued about why Clarke needed to watch that show with someone but did not ask. Besides, the blonde wanted to spend time with her — sixth on the list, but who cared? That alone was enough to make Lexa happy.

During class, Lexa found her thoughts drifting to the fact that Clarke had simply taken to calling her Lexi like it was something she had done for ages now, as well as the fact that Lexa didn’t care at all.

Had it been any other person, even Anya, she would have grunted and told them never to call her that again. But coming out of Clarke’s mouth, it no longer bothered her. It just filled her with joy.

Oh for heaven’s sake, Lexa urgently needed to spend less time with the blonde. Clearly something she was (not) doing hanging out with the blonde to watch some TV show she probably wouldn’t even like.

 

//

 

Lexa was standing outside in jeans and a white tank top, covered only by an ebony leather jacket, when a honk horned and she turned to her left looking at probably the most expensive car she had ever laid eyes on. Inside it, Clarke was flashing one of her amazing smiles.

The window rolled down and the blonde stuck her head out. “Hop on, Lexa!”

The brunette walked over to the car and opened the door, letting herself in. She set her duffel bag on her lap as the Porsche Cayenne drove away from the curb.

“I should totally have come sooner and watched your class,” Clarke started the conversation as per usual, just the way Lexa liked it. “But I’ll admit: I was too lazy to get out of bed sooner.”

“Don’t worry, Clarke. It is not even that interesting, believe me.”

“Still, I want to see you teach those innocent kids how to beat someone to a pulp one day.”

Lexa creased her brows. “I would never teach them that, Clarke.”

The blonde laughed and she relaxed again. “I know, I was kidding, Lexi. You’re very naïve for such a hard ass.”

The brunette rolled her eyes but there was a hint of amusement in the way the corner of her lips perked up ever so slightly.

“One day, Lexa,” Clarke assured. “One day.”

“Just please keep your eyes on the road, Clarke. You are scaring me.”

It felt uncomfortable to be on such an expensive car. Lexa’s ride was a 1999 Toyota Yaris, old and rickety, in good state but clearly too ancient to even pass for a decent car anymore.

Clarke's was a Porsche (a brand Lexa had never actually seen before), new and strong, modern and richly adorned, possibly too good to be taken out of the garage at all.

Lexa decided that staring at Clarke was a good way to take her mind off the huge difference between the cars driven by the blonde and her.

“There is a total lunar eclipse tonight,” she said.

The blonde got her eyes off the road to glance at her, making Lexa cringe. Clarke was, simply put, a terrible driver.

“Oh really? We should see it.”

“It’s at around eleven, Clarke. Is it not too late?”

The blonde winked at Lexa, oblivious to the effect that had on her. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you awake.”

Lexa felt her cheeks burn and thanked every god she could possibly think of for the fact that this time, Clarke had her eyes on the road. Unlike 90% of the time.

 

****

 

Clarke was laughing heartily at Lexa’s pretence to have hated the movie.

The brunette had her arms folded across her chest and sported an adorable pout and just would not admit that she had liked the damn film. Clarke assumed it was out of pride.

“Legally Blonde is epic and that is the end of it,” Clarke declared with a smirk.

“Whatever you say, Clarke. I maintain my opinion.”

The blonde couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. “If only that was your true opinion.”

They were sitting on opposite sides of the couch of the flat Clarke shared with Raven and Octavia.

The couch wasn’t even that big, so their knees nearly touched, but Clarke understood the significance of it. Not that it mattered to her.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Lexa said, standing up and walking away.

Clarke took the chance to jog to her room and grab a blanket. Maybe two would be better because well, they were two.

On the other hand, each blanket was so big that it could cover almost the full length of the couch. Besides, Lexa wouldn’t mind sharing, right?

Why waste laundry space with two blankets when one could perfectly — ok, almost perfectly, do the job?

Clarke ended up getting only one blanket and returned to the living room, where she connected her laptop to the TV.

Lexa arrived just in time with a question at her lips.

“I hope you do not mind me asking,” the brunette began, setting herself down on the right side of the couch, “but why do you need someone to watch that show with you?”

Clarke spread the blanket over the two of them (they ended up having to scoot a little bit closer to each other) and absentmindedly reached for Lexa’s left hand, holding it with her right.

“My dad was like my TV buddy,” she explained. “I always watched everything with him, be it boring documentaries about the wild or Sailor Moon. And I do mean everything. Ever since he died, I just can’t bring myself to watch anything alone,” she heaved a resigned sigh. “It’s just too scary.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

The blonde smiled faintly. “Don’t be. I should be sorry though for how rude me and my mom were the other day.”

Lexa knitted her brows together. “You were not rude, Clarke.”

“Yes, I was. After my mom practically forced you to say your parents had passed away, I didn’t even acknowledge it. So I’m sorry. For that and your parents.”

Lexa gave her one of her signature smiles and she felt lighter.

Clarke snapped out of her daze and grabbed the remote. “Now let’s get to watching my favourite show.”

“You have not yet told me how it’s called,” Lexa pointed out.

“You don’t say its name. No one does,” Clarke warned with a grin. “This show is so fucking great that its name is sacred, it belongs to the gods.”

Lexa raised her eyebrow with an amused flicker in her magnificent green eyes.

“I am curious now. What is it about?”

“A group of kids got dropped on Earth a long time after the apocalypse, blah blah blah, you don’t need to know any of that.”

Lexa snorted and Clarke was so used to that sound that she knew it was her own special way of laughing.

“What do I need to know, then?”

“The badass brunette with her face painted like a raccoon,” Clarke announced with a wide grin. “Her name is Lysh and she’s the only character you need to pay attention to. She’s quite possibly the hottest woman on earth right now.”

The video started playing and over thirty minutes of silence ensued, Lexa pretending not to like the show and Clarke with her eyes too glued to the screen to speak. For once, Lexa broke the silence.

“I actually prefer the blonde.”

Clarke snapped her incredulous stare to Lexa. “What?”

“First things first,” the brunette started. “Are we really supposed to believe that a couple of teenagers are responsible for thousands of grown-up people?”

“Uhh… Yeah?” Clarke quipped like it was obvious.

The video was still rolling in the background but neither cared to look.

“Secondly, how come did they form a whole new culture in less than a century?”

Clarke sighed with exasperation.

“Lexa, you’re not supposed to rationalise that stuff. Ok, so maybe they could have got the maths better but who cares, really? Their language is cool. Their clothes are cool. Their culture is cool. It serves the purpose of the story so why be picky about it? Besides, have you looked at their leader? She’s hot as fuck. You should be thankful for the existence of this series and to me for showing it to you.”

They averted their focus back to the episode.

“I still prefer the blonde,” Lexa added, earning a groan from the real-life blonde.

Some minutes later, Clarke had an epiphany. She grabbed Lexa’s arm in shock.

“Oh my god. Lexi, I just realised— Lysh totally looks like you!”

Lexa raised her eyebrows and chuckled and Clarke was even more shocked to actually hear her friend laugh. It had been a short one, just a chuckle, but Clarke knew right away that once was not enough and she would want to hear it many more times in the future.

“What?” she asked at the brunette’s reaction to her realisation about her favourite character of all time.

“I am assuming Lysh is the character you are drooling all over yourself for because she is, according to you, unbelievably hot,” Lexa spoke and flashed that smile that Clarke now knew — or hoped (no, that would be crazy) — was exclusively hers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” the blonde confirmed, still confused, and she could swear that Lexa’s smiled had widened at least half a millimetre.

“So you’re saying I’m hot?”

This new epiphany dawned on her like a meteor.

All at once, the way she looked at Lexa changed and her eyes widened.

The woman sitting on her couch, whom Clarke was now unafraid of unabashedly staring at, had long and beautiful brown hair, its curls stranded in intricate braids that kept her face uncovered. Her long legs were lean and sexy and those skinny jeans fitted them in a way that should just be illegal.

Lexa took off her jacket and for the first time since she met her Clarke saw her upper arm tattoo and it made her stomach somersault. Lexa’s arms were lean and muscular, and Clarke gulped just thinking about what else might hide under that white, suddenly offensive, tank top.

But Clarke’s new favourite thing was Lexa’s face. Her plump lips that just begged to be kissed and seemed to always tick up in that singular way for Clarke’s eyes only.

Her strong, cutting jawline that certainly could kill, I mean it was killing Clarke right now so how could it not? The blonde was positive that Lexa’s was the best jawline out of all the jawlines she had ever seen.

And especially her eyes. Oh her eyes. The deep, mesmerising green of Lexa’s orbs that always seemed to pull Clarke into a trance. How could eyes be so enthralling, Clarke wondered? Those freckles of gold amidst the jade sea, the rays of grey that bequeathed a kind of sadness Clarke knew all too well. Lexa’s eyes were utterly captivating.

Lexa Woods was hot. That was a fact Clarke was still unsure how she had let slip before her eyes.

Lexa Woods really, really hot.

And just like that, Clarke Griffin knew she was royally fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Griffin.
> 
>  
> 
> Can she really go past the stage of mere physical attraction though? (is she still there at all?)


	8. the askers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Question number twenty-eight!” Clarke interrupted with yet another wry grin. “Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.”  
> Lexa’s eyes widened like they had never before and her eyebrows shot up in shock.  
> No. That would be the death of her.  
>   
> or
> 
> Lexa answers personal questions and Clarke is a human antithesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be really short

How had she not noticed it before?

Of course Lexa was attractive, that was a widely acknowledged fact. Clarke always knew the girl was hot.

What she hadn’t known up until that moment was that Lexa was _hot_.

She had always been attractive but now she was… _attractive_.

 _That doesn’t even make sense_ , Clarke thought.

Clarke didn’t even know if she was thinking straight — on second thought, that she wasn’t for sure, if anything she was thinking very, very gay.

All Clarke knew was that suddenly the woman to her right was no longer ‘Ice Queen’ ew-inducing Lexa; instead, she was now hot and appealing prospect Lexa.

Oh, the things Clarke could do to—

“Clarke? Are you alright?”

Lexa’s voice snapped her out of that daze.

They were still on Clarke’s couch, the blonde practically gawking at the girl beside her whose eyes were green with worry. Green was a beautiful colour.

No. Clarke had to get any funny ideas out of her head. Lexa was in love with someone and the two of them were friends before all else so that meant that the blonde would do anything to help Lexa get the girl — and that included not getting in the way.

“Yeah I’m ok, I was just— thinking,” Clarke smiled.

Lexa creased her brow and it was too adorable. “Thinking about what?”

“Food,” the blonde lied, getting off the couch. “I’m starving. We’ve got some frozen pizza in the freezer, you ok with that?”

Lexa chuckled for the second time that evening and what the hell was happening that suddenly the girl’s spectrum of emotions wasn’t limited to the grand total of anger, annoyance and that beautiful, beautiful smile?

“Is that our special meal now?” Lexa asked with amused eyes.

Clarke grinned. “Maybe it is.” She lifted her left hand and placed the right over her heart, “I hereby solemnly swear that from now on I will only eat pizza in the company of Lexa Woods.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “We both know there is no way you will keep that promise, Clarke.”

The blonde only waggled her eyebrows in response, together with a wide grin. Lexa shook her head and rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement in them.

Clarke walked over to the kitchen, shielding herself behind the door.

They were friends. They had worked hard to get to that stage. Clarke would not be the one to change that.

She reached for the freezer and took a pizza out, putting it in the oven. Twenty minutes, the package said.

Clarke checked her father’s watch. Ten pm.

They would probably finish the pizza just in time for the lunar eclipse.

She returned to the couch and noticed that Lexa had scooted a bit closer to the centre. Clarke tried to ignore the physical implications of that as she sat down, their knees and shoulders touching more than just a little bit.

She couldn’t.

“We have twenty minutes to burn,” she announced. “What do you suggest we do?”

“It’s your house, Clarke. I have no idea what to do.”

The blonde groaned in exasperation. She could really use rude and bossy Lexa now.

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Lexa lifted an eyebrow and folded her arms in fashion with the blonde. “Blue. What is yours?”

“I don’t have a favourite colour, it’s always changing. Right now though,” Clarke gazed intensely into the other girl’s eyes, “I would say a Nile Green.”

“That is… very specific,” Lexa mumbled, her ears slightly red, earning a self-satisfied lift of the eyebrow from the blonde.

“Oh I just had an idea!”

Lexa tilted her head in confusion and looked positively adorable.

Clarke had to stop coming up with that word to describe the brunette. She was anything but.

She was rude and stubborn and standoffish and indifferent and annoying and cold and— and that tilt of her head, together with the look in her green eyes, made her look like a confused puppy and it was just the most adorable thing ever.

“What is your idea, Clarke?”

“I know this game where you ask 36 questions to one another,” the blonde started. “We have to answer completely honestly.”

The devilish look on Clarke’s face at that moment, with a mischievous grin and a defiant glint in her eyes, should have been enough for Lexa to back down.

However, as the blonde very well knew, the Commander was not one to pass a challenge. “Alright. Ask away.”

Nice job staying away from Lexa.

Clarke fetched her iPad from her bedroom and opened the PDF document she had saved with all 36 questions.

“The first one is relatively simple.” She then read, “Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

Lexa’s answer surprised her. “Fernando Pessoa. He was a poet who wrote in English quite frequently and I personally identify with one of his heteronyms’ views. Ricardo Reis to be specific.”

“Mine would be Van Gogh. He was a genius.”

Lexa took the iPad and set it on the glass table in front of the couch so they could read the questions without the gadget going back and forth between them.

“Would you like to be famous? In what way?” She then frowned and pointed out very seriously, “These are two questions.”

Clarke rolled her eyes with annoyance. “Oh come on Lexa, really? Just play along with it. I wouldn’t mind being a famous doctor or painter, honestly, if that meant I was successful. But I don’t want to be famous just for the sake of it.”

“I would prefer not to be famous at all.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?”

Lexa’s face went completely red and the girl answered sheepishly, “I did in the early stages of dating Costia. I wanted to make sure I always said the right thing.”

Clarke couldn’t help but find that endearing. “That’s really sweet,” she said.

“Do you rehearse?”

“I do when talking to my mom,” the blonde admitted. “She’s so complicated and I always want to make sure I won’t snap on the phone and say something I might regret later.”

Lexa stared into her eyes and Clarke knew she understood. She then looked back at the tablet and frowned.

“Can we skip some questions?”

Clarke laughed, the purpose of the game ruined. And yet, she didn’t really care.

“Sure,” she agreed with a kind smile. “Skip all the questions you want.”

“Question number 13: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

Clarke had to think longer about it.

“Maybe… What career I should really pursue,” she replied. “Be a doctor? Be an artist? What are my chances with each?”

“Not a politician?”

Clarke shook her head. “That was my mother’s idea.”

“You are good at it though. And you were born a leader, Clarke.”

The two girls locked eyes and drowned in each other’s emotions.

“Maybe. But I would much prefer be an artist or a doctor.”

“Then that is what you should be,” Lexa concluded solemnly.

That earned her a thankful smile for the blonde.

“What about you, Lexi? What would you want to know?”

“If love really is worth the pain as all the fools like to say.”

Clarke was taken aback by the response but decided to leave it at that. There were many things, she was discovering, she could discuss with Lexa at another time.

She leaned in to read the next question.

“Let’s jump directly to number sixteen: what do you value most in a friendship?”

Lexa was fast to speak. “Loyalty.”

“Reliability.”

It was Lexa’s turn to pose a question. “What is your most treasured memory?”

Clarke’s lips turned upwards in a nostalgic smile.

“My eleventh birthday,” she told dreamily. “We went to the park and ate some ice cream. Then we went home and my dad watched The Parent Trap with me for the hundredth time,” she laughed. “As the credits rolled, my dad told me to close my eyes and when I opened them again there they were, my dad and my mom, one holding a giant teddy bear and the other with the most beautiful bike I’ve ever seen at their feet. It was so simple and yet it’s still my favourite memory of all time.”

When she looked at Lexa again, Clarke realised the girl was smiling in that special way that made her heart flutter.

“It sounds like an amazing memory, Clarke,” the brunette’s voice was soft and kind.

Clarke resisted the sudden urge to hug her.

“Thanks. Now what’s your best memory?”

“Meeting Anya and Lincoln and being taken in my Indra. After my parents died, they became my rock.”

“That’s why you care so much about each other.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement.

“They are my family,” Lexa confirmed and Clarke could see just how much she cared for her people. “I care about Luna and Echo very much as well, but Anya and Linc quickly grew to be like older siblings and Indra saved me from falling. I owe them my life.”

“I’m glad they took such good care of you.”

Lexa smiled again and Clarke thought she might melt to the ground and die if the brunette started smiling more often than five times a week.

“Next question!” she exclaimed, averting her thoughts from Lexa’s alluring smile. “Share a total of five things you consider positive characteristics of your partner.”

Lexa blushed violently and this time Clarke followed suit, feeling her own ears burn like a thousand incandescent iron swords.

Curiosity taking over, Clarke brought her legs up to the couch and crossed them underneath herself, so she could be facing Lexa completely.

The brunette scrunched her nose, still greatly embarrassed.

The blonde, on the other hand, had replaced flustered cheeks with a sly grin.

“Should we not skip this one, Clarke?” Lexa asked, probably dreading having to give an answer.

“Why would we?” Clarke teased. “Come on, Lexi. Spill the beans. All five of them.”

Lexa was still wearing a scarlet colour on every patch of skin however small from her neck up.

“I do not see that it’s necessary,” she muttered, “but I will oblige. I would say your most redeeming qualities—“

“Ha!” she was interrupted by Clarke’s loud laughter. “Most redeeming qualities?” the blonde snorted.

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Five things I like about you are,” she corrected herself reluctantly, “your kindness, your goodness, your intelligence, your eyes,” she flushed even more, ”and your stubbornness.”

Clarke was especially pleased with the fourth item, whereas the last one had her intrigued.

“My stubbornness?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Lexa responded, avoiding eye contact. “Somehow I find it soothing, like a constant I need in my life. If you ever stopped being so annoyingly stubborn, I would know there was something wrong with the world.”

Clarke opened and closed her mouth and realised Lexa had rendered her speechless.

An answer finally popped up in her mind but as she was about to voice it, the oven started beeping, signalling that the pizza was ready.

Clarke forced her mouth shut again, hopped off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

 

****

 

Right now Lexa was not sure whether she would rather kiss Clarke or be run over by a truck.

Honestly, both sounded like wonderful options after her self-imposed humiliation just some minutes ago.

In all fairness, Clarke had been the one causing Lexa’s embarrassment, but the brunette would never blame it on her.

In Lexa’s opinion, the only thing Clarke was guilty of was making her develop a behemoth of a crush on her.

“So when are you free to hang out again?”

Lexa turned on the couch, slice of pizza in hand, to face the blonde.

“Only in two weeks. I have to be full-time at the gym next week.”

“How do you work so hard on your gym and still manage to get great grades?”

“You are managing two majors and a minor, Clarke. Plus additional courses. I would hardly classify what I have been doing as extraordinary.”

“Well I think it is,” Clarke stated, which caused Lexa to deviate her gaze to the floor.

Or so she wanted to because her eyes inadvertently found their way to Clarke’s breasts. Which obviously made her blush and quickly shift them to her hands and then finally to the floor.

Luckily, Clarke had been too focused on her now non-existent slice of pizza to notice.

“Anyway, like I said, you need some game to get that girl you’re all head over heals in love with,” Clarke smirked and winked. “So I’m going to show you the ropes.”

Lexa scratched the back of her neck, unsure of what to say.

“I do not think I need that, Clarke. I had a girlfriend after all.”

“Who must have been so taken by how hot you are that she was willing to ignore your utter lack of game,” the blonde evidenced.

Lexa almost choked at the fact that the girl had called her hot.

“That is not—“

“Question number twenty-eight!” Clarke interrupted with yet another wry grin. “Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.”

Lexa’s eyes widened like they had never before and her eyebrows shot up in shock.

No. That would be the death of her.

“I am not doing that, Clarke.”

“Oh don’t be a buzz kill, Lexi.”

The blonde gripped her left arm and rested her chin on the brunette’s shoulder. All Lexa could do was gulp.

“Just imagine I’m the girl you like.”

If only Clarke knew she was the girl Lexa liked. And if only Lexa knew Clarke was hoping that the girl would wave that idea off and just do it about the blonde.

“Yes, that would probably be easier,” Lexa agreed uneasily.

Clarke then rested her hand on the brunette’s and locked eyes with her. “I’m kidding Lexa, you don’t have to do this.”

Lexa let herself get lost in the endless sky blue and swallowed her fear.

“I want to do it. After all, like you said,” she returned the intensity of the blonde’s gaze, “I have to up my game, right?”

They stared at each other for several seconds and Lexa could feel the air around them getting thicker.

“I like,” she cleared her throat. “I like—“

“Look at the time!” Clarke gasped, taking the brunette by surprise. “Let’s go outside or we’ll miss the lunar eclipse!”

The blonde grabbed Lexa’s wrist and dragged her to the small balcony next to the living room.

Clarke climbed on the edge of the balcony and sat on it, legs dangling over the street six floors below, draining all colour from Lexa’s face.

“You could fall off and die, Clarke!” the brunette squeaked, face ashen and eyes wide.

“Oh come on Lexi, I’m used to this,” the blonde laughed and patted the space to her right. “Get up here, pretty girl.”

Lexa obeyed and some seconds later, blonde and brunette hairs were flowing with the light wind, heads turned to the sky and gazing at the red moon that stained the night cloak like a drop of blood.

Between Lexa and Clarke’s bodies, their fingers were touching, none of the girls building up the courage to entwine them together.

“The red we see is essentially all the sunrises and sunsets reflected upon the moon’s surface.”

Clarke turned her head to the brunette. “Really? That’s so poetic,” she smiled. “I think it made the phenomenon even more beautiful.”

Lexa nodded in agreement.

“What do you prefer, Lex? The sunrise or the sunset?”

“The sunrise. It’s so hopeful and picturesque. It reminds me to hold on to my search for happiness even in the grimmest days.”

Clarke smiled kindly and rested her head on the brunette’s shoulder.

“Same.”

Lexa gazed at the stars and thanked them for this moment.

_Do the stars gaze back?_

Because if they did, Lexa thought that for once they were on her side.

“I love the stars,” she whispered, letting her words be taken by the wind. “The sun especially is so… tantalising. It’s fascinating how the very star that gives us life is so harmful as well. It shines the night away but if you look at it directly it could envelop you in never-ending darkness.”

“Have you imagined being the sun?” Clarke muttered. “So lonely even though she’s the centre of attention.”

“I think being the Earth would be even more painful. Orbiting around the sun for all eternity, loving her all her life,” Lexa mused. “Never being able to touch her. And if you ever get too close, you could burn.”

“Like Icarus’s wings.”

“Like when you love someone but you know they will probably never love you back. What do you do? Take your chance and risk crashing down and burning? Or do you stay in your corner, forever wondering about all the maybe’s you can possibly think of?”

“I say you take a risk,” Clarke declared.

“I say you protect yourself.” The two girls looked at each other, tall green into hopeful blue. “Love is weakness, Clarke. It is not a risk one can afford to take.”

“I think love is humanity’s most wonderful creation,” the blonde argued. “We should embrace it, not run from it.”

“It would be foolish for the Earth to pursue a relationship when she knows that she will inevitably get hurt.”

“Being in pain means you’re living, Lex. If you never suffer then you’re not really alive.”

“I would rather smile all the time.”

At that, Clarke chuckled softly. So softly it made Lexa’s heart skip a beat.

“You never smile, Lexi.”

“I do sometimes,” the brunette countered with kind eyes. “But to me a smile has to be meaningful. It has to carry genuine affection.”

“Do you smile at her?”

“Who?”

“The girl you love.”

That notion startled her.

“I would not say I love her, Clarke.”

“Oh please, Lexa,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “I read your poem. How long have you known her? And I mean talking to her and all that jazz.”

“Around three months,” Lexa replied, not very far from the truth.

“Sometimes a month is enough to fall in love. And the sweetness of your words… Sorry to break it to you, Commander, but you're in love.”

“I still—“

“Lexi,” the blonde chuckled again, the softest and kindest of chuckles. “It’s love.”

Lexa swallowed the knot in her throat.

It was not love. It was just a crush. It was not love.

“Yes.”

Clarke looked up at her in confusion. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I smile at her,” Lexa confessed, a smile lurking on her lips. ”More than I ever thought possible considering that I have known her for such a short amount of time.”

Clarke took the brunette’s hand in hers. “I’m glad,” she smiled genuinely.

An idea seemed to come up in her mind, judging by the glistening eyes and wondrous smile she flashed at Lexa right after.

“We didn’t do the last part of that game,” she said.

Lexa sighed. “There was more?”

“This one’s easy. We just have to stare into each other’s eyes for three minutes.”

“I don’t know that—“

“Oh come on Lexi,” Clarke pleaded, tugging at her hand, still held in the blonde’s. “Can’t be that hard.”

Lexa sighed again. “Alright.”

They turned to each other and locked eyes.

Lexa tried not to let her nervousness show.

Never had she thought it was so hard to hold someone’s gaze for so long.

“October nine,” Clarke spoke up after just one minute. “I’m taking you to my favourite club. The hunting season has started.”

Lexa heaved yet another sigh. “Why not,” she shrugged.

They kept at it for another minute, Lexa trying her hardest not to let embarrassing red creep up her cheeks, until Clarke laughed and broke eye contact, looking back at the moon.

Two minutes. Lexa tried to ignore her own disappointment.

“This is ridiculous,” Clarke chortled. “And too hard.”

“I guess,” the brunette agreed, not taking her eyes off her friend.

Then the blonde added with deceptive nonchalance, “Apparently people fall in love by the end of the three minutes.”

What Clarke didn’t know was that while her eyes were back on the blood moon, Lexa’s remained trained on pink lips for another full minute.

Three minutes.

Lexa couldn’t help wondering.

Was it enough to fall in love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU so much for all the amazing comments, you guys make this all the more worthwhile
> 
> Anyhow: you asked, I provided :p a 100% Clexa, posted-earlier-than-Wednesday chapter
> 
> Aaaaand we have officially wrapped 'Act' I!
> 
>  
> 
> Also: Nile Green — colour code 14-0121. And yes, I compared it to Alycia's eyes. I know: I should just get a life
> 
> P.S.: go check Fernando Pessoa out. He had nearly 80 heteronyms, among them: Ricardo Reis, Claude Pasteur, Alvaro Campos, Thomas Crosse, Alberto Caeiro, Bernardo Reis, David Merrick, Frederick Wyatt and Chevalier de Pas. Heteronyms are much more than pseudonyms: they are fully-fledged characters with their own writing style and personality. The guy was crazy.


	9. the sighers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And then what?”  
> Clarke smirked. “And then, you apply one of Clarke Griffin’s many tactics of seduction.”  
> “Have you ever applied any to me?”  
> “Are we holding hands right now?”
> 
> or
> 
> Octavia doesn't trust Lexa and Raven is captain of the Clexa ship
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke is kind of sort of totally jealous and Lexa is sickeningly sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I didn't post this last week! My parents were away for several days and I had to take care of the house. That includes two kids and four dogs, which means I had no time to sit down and write.
> 
> Still, here is chapter nine. We will see new sides of our favourite blonde ;)

“I’m home, jackass!”

The door was slammed closed and Clarke gathered she would not be able to sleep through another minute.

She got out of bed and walked to the living room, where she was greeted by a smirking Octavia.

“Who did you cuddle with?” the girl asked at the sight of the big blanket on the couch, untouched since Lexa had left the flat the night before.

Clarke yawned and stretched before turning to make her way to the kitchen.

She answered as indifferently as possible, “Lexa.”

“What… the fuck?” Clarke supposed the expletive had not been employed out of pure joy. “I told you not to trust her and next thing you do is snug with her like lovesick fuck buddies?”

Clarke opened the fridge, took a carton of milk from it, picked a bowl from the counter and filled it with milk.

She held up a finger at her friend.

“First thing: fuck buddies couldn’t be further from the truth.” She held up a second finger. “Second: lovesick? Really?”

“I don’t trust her,” Octavia insisted in a hiss, “and you brought her here.”

Clarke took a spoon as well as a cereal box from two other counters and poured its contents into the bowl with milk.

“You were the one that told me to look for someone to watch the show with.” Clarke took a spoonful of milk and cereal and only talked again once she had swallowed it. “So technically, you have no one but yourself to blame.”

Octavia was having none of it.

“If I tell you to jump off a bridge, will you do it?”

Clarke grinned widely. “Only if you do it too.” That earned her an eye roll from her friend. “Besides, Lexa and I are just friends.”

“So were Chandler and Monica.”

Clarke pointed her spoon at the brunette. “I prefer to reference Dana and Alice.”

Octavia scoffed. “Your whole world revolves around The L Word, doesn’t it?”

“That and Carmilla.”

“The L Word, Carmilla, flannel shirts,” Octavia counted affectionately. “You’re a walking stereotype, Clarke.”

“Proudly.” The blonde took another spoonful. She let some time pass before swallowing. “But Alice and Dana were soul mates.”

“And you and Lexa are…?”

“We’re like the ends of a bull. She’s the ass.”

Octavia squinted suspiciously at Clarke.

“What does that even mean?”

“No idea, I just made it up. But unless you’re Marilyn Manson, your head will never meet your ass, just like Lexa and I will never be together.”

Octavia leaned on the counter, resting her elbows and forearms on the top.

“Glad to hear that. But please be vigilant. I don’t trust her.”

“You already said that.”

“Yeah but with you I have to say everything twice to make sure the message gets in your hard head.”

Clarke snorted. “You’re the one that never listens to my advice.”

“You advice is boring.”

“My advice is valuable, O.”

“Whatever. Just stay away from Lexa, I—“

“—I get it, you don’t trust her,” Clarke interrupted her. “Got it.”

“I’m serious, Clarke.”

“So am I when I tell you that Lexa is madly in love with some other girl so even if I was interested there’s no chance that anything would ever happen.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow at that.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Interested.”

“Not at all.”

“Good. You’re always so worried taking care of everyone else and their feelings that you sometimes miss what’s happening within you.”

“Trust me, O. Lexa and I?” Clarke chuckled. “That will never happen.”

“Dude, try not to get so tangled up in the never that you forget the now.”

“Ok now I’m the one that doesn’t get it. And since when did you get so philosophical?”

“Lincoln is rubbing off on me,” Octavia shrugged. “And I mean you’re so confident that it will never happen that you might leave your guard down and accidentally fall in love with her.”

Clarke laughed at how ridiculous that claim sounded.

“Look, I’m not attracted to her. I mean, is she hot? Yes of course, I’m not fucking blind.” _You were until last night_ , a voice in the back of her head said. “But there’s just too much about Lexa that doesn’t work for me for that to even be a possibility,” she explained. “One more time just to be sure your apparently deaf ears hear me right: me and Lexa? Not happening.”

 

****

 

Was Raven Reyes a genius? Yes. Was she better than everyone at practically everything? Yes. Was she kind of perfect? Oh yes.

However, what she loved the most about herself was her flaws.

Raven would never admit to having any but the truth was they were there and actually helped keep her grounded.

Besides, she could thank her flaws for the person sitting by her side at that moment, holding her hand and smirking at her every once in a while.

She didn’t have a very clear idea of how it had even started.

Raven remembered falling into a snarky dynamic with Anya right from the beginning and next thing she knew, she was being pinned against the wall in a dark alley close to the university, less than a week after they met.

While everyone was obliviously focused on the animosity between Lexa and Clarke, Raven and Anya had sneaked around together, finding pleasure in each other’s arms.

What had begun as some fun make out sessions had turned into feelings and before they had even had a chance to take their unorthodox relationship to the next level, each knew she already liked the other.

It had been that night at the club that had made them sure of what they wanted.

Anya had been surprisingly open to a relationship. Raven, on the other hand, had fought the possibility until the very last moment.

But with her lower lip trapped between Anya’s passionate but remarkably gentle teeth and her heart pumping inside her chest like a drum, Raven had realised that her fight had come to an end.

There was no other way around it: she had been falling in love with Anya since the first time they had exchanged courteous insults and as much as she would like to deny it, her feelings, thirst and pain would only be sated if she let herself go and got lost in the blonde’s arms.

The first time since Finn Collins.

Raven would never admit to this because she knew that would set Clarke into selfless-to-a-fault mode, but she had been in love with Finn; utterly, toxically in love with the boy with long dark hair and deliciously mischievous brown eyes.

Another thing she had never told anyone was that in fact, contrary to everyone’s belief, she had been the first to start dating Finn. It had been her that Finn had been cheated on with Clarke.

Raven would never say those two things out loud because more than cocky or witty or smart, she was devoted to her friends. And even though her relationship with Octavia was precious, Clarke was, truthfully, her best best friend.

Raven knew that Finn had loved Clarke, not her. That day Clarke had found them, the boy had lied shamelessly about the nature of his and Raven’s relationship and understanding his motives, Raven had played along, making Clarke believe that the brunette had been no more than the other woman.

The pain that had come from that had been excruciating. Still, Raven was the strongest person everyone who knew her had ever met.

It was a silent kind of strength, a resilience, an ability to endure life’s hardships like no one else. Her drunken mother, her absent father, her paralysed leg, her boyfriend of several years that she had kept so secret she had apparently given him the freedom to cheat on her with other girls.

Seeing the way he had treated the blonde over the months during and after the break-up, Raven knew that learning the sombre details would only hurt Clarke more, maybe to the point where she would close herself off to love completely.

And that was something Raven would not allow, for she could not let her best friend let a great opportunity slip between her fingers.

That great opportunity was wearing her everlasting serious expression and sitting on the couch like she was in a posture exam, her observant green eyes scanning Raven and yearning access to her thoughts.

That great opportunity was talking to Raven and Anya and chancing a look or two at her phone from time to time — more like every thirty seconds — and Raven knew exactly why.

That great opportunity was almost smiling at her phone and answering a text Raven was pretty sure she knew who had sent it.

“Lexa,” she called with a smirk. “Texting the boyfriend?”

The girl tore her eyes from the phone and looked up at Raven with an annoyed expression.

“I’m a lesbian, Raven,” she said very seriously.

Clarke was right. Lexa was the human version of Drax the Destroyer.

Against all odds, Raven liked Lexa. The initial coldness between each other had been replaced with respect, mostly due to Anya and Raven’s relationship and the mechanic was grateful that Lexa had been accepting of it and her now constant presence in their house.

Besides, she saw the way Lexa looked at a certain blonde.

“Damn, had no idea,” she mocked. “Is that Clarke? Is that why you’re almost smiling?”

A light blush coloured Lexa’s cheeks. “No.”

Raven knew (and Lexa knew that she knew) all too well that was a lie. She held the other girl’s stare for some seconds before lifting a smirking eyebrow.

“Whatever you say, Lexie.”

The other brunette was quick to quip. “Don’t call me that.”

A window of opportunity that Raven was fast to jump through.

“Clarke does. Why can she call you that and I can’t?”

The blush on Lexa’s cheeks intensified but the girl kept her composure. Raven couldn’t help but admire Lexa’s perseverance.

By the mechanic’s side, a leering Anya was pretending to be focused on her phone.

“Clarke is my work partner. You are just my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Hey, show some respect, nerd,” Anya intervened with a scoff, not bothering to take her eyes off her phone.

“Correction: I’m your sister’s hot girlfriend,” Raven beamed. “The difference is, Clarke is your future hot girlfriend.”

At that, Lexa stood up in a jolt, trying to hide her extreme embarrassment.

“If you have nothing valuable to add to this three-way conversation, then maybe I ought to not be here,” she said in a hard tone, standing up. “I will leave you two alone.”

Lexa left the room and only then did Anya look up. She kissed Raven’s cheek and grinned wildly, a devilish glint in her gaze.

“You are almost as mean as me.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “How do you think I wooed you?”

Anya rolled her eyes but the smile didn’t leave her face. Raven felt a welcome kind of warmth fill up her chest.

 

****

 

Lexa sat on the bed and rested her arms on her knees.

Was she that obvious?

If so, how did Clarke not see it like apparently everybody else?

Had she seen it and decided to ignore it?

Did the blonde have her eye on someone else, hence not even thinking about it that way?

Or was the idea of Lexa and Clarke together so ridiculous that it hadn’t even crossed her mind?

Or maybe, just maybe, Clarke was exasperatingly oblivious?

Whatever it was, it did not matter. They would be going out together the following day and Clarke would help her “up her game.”

Lexa would use that to move on.

Or in.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

Lexa raised her eyebrow. This was unusual.

“What do you want, Raven?”

Lexa heard the girl on the other side of the door gasp. “What? How did you— never mind. Can I come in?”

She weighed her options and concluded that not letting Raven in might not please Clarke too much. Besides, she was beginning to like the blonde’s friend. Just a little.

If Raven had been able to make Anya, hater of people extraordinaire, like her, then she must have something big going for her.

“Come in,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes.

The door opened and Raven entered the room with a shit-eating smile.

“What?” Lexa inquired brusquely.

“You’re starting to like me.”

“You’re starting to annoy me.”

Raven held her hands up in surrender and sat on Lexa’s bed. Without her permission, Lexa registered with displeasure.

“I come in peace, Woody.”

“It’s Woods,” she quipped dryly.

Raven frowned. “Never seen Toy Story? Oh of course not, happy movies and you are probably not compatible.”

“I got the reference, Raven.”

“Anyway, I just came here to tell you something.”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “I figured as much. What I cannot fathom is why you are taking so long.”

Raven put on a serious expression and Lexa understood that she would not spare another second with trivialities.

“Look,” the mechanic said. “I like you, ok? I think beneath all that ‘don’t touch me or I’ll bite you’ attitude there’s actually a really nice person. Clarke sees it too, more even than I do.”

Lexa frowned. What was this talk supposed to be?

“Clarke thinks she’s above the whole feelings stuff because of what happened with Finn and— other things that are not for me to tell you.” Lexa nodded, she had seen the sadness in the blonde’s eyes. “She has been shielding herself from everything more and more over the years and for a long time I thought Finn had been the final drop. But it isn’t.”

Lexa clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the fact that she knew perfectly why Raven was telling her that.

“And why are you telling me that?”

The other girl rolled her eyes. “You know why, Lexa. We all have battle scars. I usually say suck it up, but Clarke has been sucking them all up to the point of no return and I was starting to grow more and more worried.”

Lexa frowned. “Was?”

“You came up,” Raven shrugged with a faint but hopeful smile. “You came up and suddenly, she walks lighter, smiles brighter and stands straighter, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.”

Lexa looked down at her own hands, shyness flooding her cheeks. “I find it hard to believe that I am the reason for Clarke’s light-heartedness.”

“You should because you are. I’m not going to beat around the bush with you, Lexa. Don’t give up on her.”

“I do no—“

“Cut the shit, Lexa, I know you like her,” Raven cut her off harshly. “What I mean is, be it as a friend or more… Just don’t give up on Clarke, please.”

Raven’s hard brown eyes poured all their sheer intensity into Lexa’s green.

Lexa appreciated friends like the mechanic, who took no shit and were fiercely protective of the people that they cared about. Raven cared about Clarke immensely and, in all honesty, so did Lexa, so those were two things they had in common.

There were other things and that assured Lexa that somehow her fellow brunette would find her way into her life and her reduced group of friends. That annoyed her but also made her smile. Internally.

Raven’s eyes were still locked on Lexa’s, waiting for an answer.

Clarke was important to Lexa, not just because of the crush of apocalyptic proportions she had on the blonde, but especially because of their friendship, which Lexa valued beyond reason.

Whatever happened, the brunette knew that the mere presence of Clarke in her life was enriching, enlightening and immeasurably fulfilling. The blonde had been the brunette’s light at the end of the tunnel and Lexa would give everything to be hers. To help Clarke the same way that she had helped her.

Lexa nodded slowly and spoke truthfully, “I won’t.”

 

****

 

October 9 finally came and Clarke couldn’t contain her excitement.

She had agreed with Lexa to pick her up at nine and the two would go together to a club of Clarke’s choice.

Clarke had taken some time getting ready, as this was her chance to impress Lexa. Not romantically, of course, but to show the brunette how to woo other girls.

If Lexa’s jaw were to fall on the floor in the process, then well — it would purely be a bonus. A very, very satisfying one.

Clarke was wearing a simple knee-high black dress with a nice cleavage that would surely turn every head — Lexa’s included, and not because Clarke had been planning that when choosing the dress; she just knew it wasn’t humanly possible to ignore her when she looked liked that. Clarke couldn’t ignore herself, so how could anyone else?

Her lips were pink and her eyes were smoky and sexy, with the mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow highlighting their blue intensity. If the dress didn’t do the job, Clarke was sure her make-up would. She had put on the extra effort. Naturally not for Lexa; instead, because tonight she would surely take someone home.

If the brunette were to look at her a few more times than usual, that would just be a delicious extra.

This was not about Lexa, Clarke repeated to herself at least ten times.

It was time to win that damn bet.

At least that is what was going through her mind as she knocked on Lexa’s door at ten minutes to nine o’clock.

It was Anya that opened the door and rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Clarke standing outside of the apartment.

“Blondie’s here, Lexa!” Anya called over her shoulder into the house.

Clarke breathed in and out trying to contain her annoyance. “I have a name, you know?”

Anya looked her up and down with a derisive smirk.

“Yeah I know. It’s Blondie.”

The older woman turned her back on Clarke, moving back inside the house, and left the door open for the guest to come in and close it.

Anya sat down on the couch in the living room, ignoring Clarke’s presence.

Clarke, on the other hand, had no idea what to do. She had never been received with such indifference.

She was musing on whether she should sit down or stand when she hear Anya growl.

“Will you just sit down, Blondie? You’re early, Lexa’s not ready yet.”

“I’m sorry I’m early, I—“

“Just sit down, you’re annoying me standing there like an idiot,” Anya deadpanned.

Clarke nodded and walked round the couch to sit down, as far away from the other woman, who was watching some show on the TV, as possible.

Silence took over and Clarke had never felt so awkward in her life.

“So, Anya…”

“None of your business.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Still none of your business.”

“It kind of is when it’s about Raven. She’s my best friend.”

“Unlucky her.”

“ _What?_ ” Clarke snapped.

Anya heaved a bothered sigh and turned to her sisterly best friend’s guest.

“Look. I try to be nice to… humans, in general. I really do. Mostly I just try to live my life but I also really try to be nice,” she added. “But sometimes people just decide to be extra annoying and I can’t for the life of me even pretend to not absolutely despise them. You’re one of those cases.”

“I’m sorry that I try to be civil to you, Anya,” Clarke spat venomously and stood up. “I’m sorry that it bothers you so much.”

Anya rolled her eyes so hard that the Earth nearly turned upside down.

“You are an insufferable brat.”

“For Raven’s sake, I think we should—“

“There is no ‘we’ here, Blondie. Just try not to talk to me a lot and Raven won’t even mind. Neither will Lexa.”

“Why would Lexa mind if—“

A throat being cleared interrupted her question and Clarke looked up.

_Holy fuck._

Lexa was standing by the living room door, her hair loose for the first time since Clarke met her and her eyes scanning the blonde.

Lexa was wearing black leather skinny pants that screamed legs with black high heel shoes and a simple grey top. Her green eyes were intensified by strongly applied eyeliner. Less is often more and in this case simplicity fit Lexa like a glove. The brunette was absolutely stunning.

Clarke swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe or speak around the lump in her throat.

The blonde soon realised she was gaping and gawking, so she quickly averted her eyes to the floor.

When she finally dared look at Lexa, Clarke registered with satisfaction and flustered cheeks that the brunette’s jaw was on the floor and her eyes as wide as they had ever been, a blush covering her whole neck and face and her ears practically catching fire.

“You two need a room?”

Anya’s dry comment snapped both girls out of their daze.

Lexa was the first to react although her gaze would rest everywhere except on Clarke. “I am so sorry I made you wait, Clarke,” she said and extended her hand towards the door. “Shall we go?”

Clarke smiled and could have sworn Lexa had stumbled a bit. “Don’t worry Lexa, I was early.” She checked her watch. “You’re actually on time. Now come on, this way.”

Lexa picked a small purse from a chair at the table and followed Clarke out of the apartment.

Once downstairs and outside, they walked to Clarke’s car. The blonde had decided that whoever of them drank less that night would drive afterwards or, if needed, they would take a cab and she would get the car back in the morning.

“You look very pretty,” Lexa observed once they were seated, looking down at her hands.

“You too,” Clarke smiled.

“And I apologise for Anya, she can be somewhat intense.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it.” Clarke turned on the engine and sped off. “Besides, I know she loves you very much so she would never come between us — being friends, that is,” she added feeling her cheeks warm up.

“Yes. She’s just not very fond of people.”

“And of all people, she’s fond of you,” Clarke chuckled with her eyes on the road.

“I’m not that unlikable, Clarke.”

“You’re quite the opposite, actually.”

The blonde smiled to herself and decided she loved the way that Lexa’s cheeks assumed a tinge of pink every time she complimented the brunette.

The drive to the club was silent albeit in a comfortable way. Clarke was extremely comfortable with the brunette, so much so that even the silence was enjoyable in her presence.

Like a secret she was only free to share with Lexa.

Like a delicacy she could only savour fully when she was with Lexa.

Like a language only her and Lexa could speak.

_That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence._

Clarke shook her head, sending those thoughts away.

“I have heard your friends call you Princess,” Lexa remarked breaking the silence.

Clarke realised Lexa had been staring at her the entire time. It didn’t bother her though; she was in fact quite used to it. In all honesty, Clarke usually found herself quite disappointed whenever those green eyes _weren’t_ on her. It made her feel less present, less real. Like Lexa’s unwavering gaze was confirmation of her very existence.

Clarke sighed. “Yeah, they do it affectionately.”

Lexa reinforced her gaze on the girl, earnest and caring. “You do not like it.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“I tolerate it because I love them and I know they say it lovingly.”

“Tolerating is not liking, Clarke.”

The blonde forced a smile. “You’re right, it’s not. It just feels like a pejorative nickname, you know?”

Lexa nodded.

“Then I will never call you that.”

Clarke’s smile was true and thankful this time, as she turned to Lexa to grin her gratitude.

The brunette’s eyes widened.

“Please keep your eyes on the road, Clarke,” she said with urgency.

The blonde turned her gaze quickly to the windshield, embarrassed at her own carelessness. “You really hate my driving, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate anything about you, Clarke.” The blonde laughed at the response. “But yes, your driving terrifies me.”

“The great Commander is terrified of a small girl behind the wheel?”

“You are small, Clarke. But what truly terrifies me is the fact that you seem to not be able to keep your eyes where they should be: in front of you, on the road.”

“You’re too distracting, Sexy Lexi,” Clarke answered with a sly grin. “And you know why?”

Lexa lifted a brow with an amused glint in her eyes. “Why?”

“Because,” she turned back to Lexa and crooned, “you’re just too good to be true… I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Lexa smirked and Clarke could swear there wasn’t an expression of the brunette she didn’t adore.

“Are you flirting with me, Clarke?”

The blonde waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe I am.”

Lexa then blushed intensely and Clarke presumed she had not been expecting that answer. That just made her beam widen.

“Please get your eyes back on the road,” Lexa ordered, her cheeks still red but her eyes not leaving Clarke’s.

“What, I’m just training you for later,” the blonde laughed, and raised her hands from the wheel in surrender.

Lexa’s eyes widened impossibly and she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Alright, that’s enough, stop the car.”

“What? Why?”

“Clarke Griffin, you are the worst driver I have ever met. Please sop the car.”

Clarke did as told and unbuckled her own seatbelt.

“Let us switch seats.”

Clarke lifted an incredulous eyebrow. “You’re joking, right?”

“Clarke, I do not care that this is you car,” Lexa stated dramatically. “I am not dying today so either you let me drive or I am walking to the club.”

Clarke was dumbfounded by the brunette’s sudden urgency and left the car, switching places with Lexa. Once she was on the passenger seat and Lexa was on the wheel, the brunette’s hands feeling the leather with a relieved sigh, Clarke couldn’t contain her laughter.

Lexa turned to her with a quirked eyebrow and an annoyed expression.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” the blonde said, still unable to stop laughing. “It’s just that you’re adorable.”

Lexa blushed intensely again and mumbled unintelligibly to herself while she started the car. “Let’s just head to that club of yours. Tell me the way.”

 

****

 

To say that Clarke’s driving skills were terrifying was an understatement. To say that Lexa’s were brilliant was too. Even Clarke had admitted that the brunette was a great driver, bringing a smile to her face.

The only downside of replacing Clarke behind the wheel was that she could no longer stare for minutes without interruption at the blonde without her noticing.

They were now leaving the freshly parked car, headed to the club Clarke had personally chosen that night.

“The club is called The Drop Ship and it’s a lesbian club so there is no chance that you will be hitting on any straight girls. That would be counterproductive,” Clarke was saying when Lexa spotted a silhouette walking their way.

She stopped in her tracks and put her hand on Clarke’s arm, stopping her too.

The blonde turned to her with worry and confusion in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Lexa?”

Oh how she loved hearing her name in Clarke’s tongue.

“Someone is coming our way,” Lexa answered, nodding to where the silhouette, that was now a fully formed young man, was.

“Shit,” Clarke cursed under her breath.

It was Lexa’s turn to express worry and confusion. “Do you know him?”

“Fucking Finn,” the blonde gritted.

As if he had heard his name, Finn sped up his pace and met them, barely looking at Lexa. “Clarke,” he greeted with a big smile. “I found you.”

Clarke took a step forward. “What do you want, Finn? And how did you find me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, grin still in place. “I followed you.”

Clarke blinked several times. “What?”

Lexa felt her blood boil. So this was Finn.

She could see the boy’s appeal: the L’Oreal hair, the cheeky smile and the deep brown male model eyes, together with a fine build, made for an attractive man with that air of danger to him that girls seem to love — that is, if you are into men at all, which Lexa definitely wasn’t.

To her, he was just a thirsty fuckboy who knew exactly how to lure women with his bad boy aura and flirtatious demeanour and who had not been able to swallow the first blatant rejection of his life. Multiple too, from the look of what little Clarke had told her.

Finn reached for Clarke’s hand and grabbed it before she could yank it away.

“Let’s stop playing games, Clarke,” he pleaded with stupid puppy eyes. “You know and I know that we belong together.”

“Only you seem to know Finn, because I sure as hell don’t,” Clarke responded harshly. ”Actually, if there is anywhere I belong, it’s miles away from you.”

This time, Finn moved even more forward and started pulling Clarke into a hug.

“C’mon Clarke, stop playing hard to ge—“

“Hey!”

Finn was pushed away from Clarke by the strong hands of Lexa, who stepped in front of the blonde.

“Get your hands off her,” the girl snarled.

He massaged his shoulder where Lexa had hit him and looked at her in disbelief. “Who the fuck are you?”

“She’s my friend,” Clarke chimed in with a proud grin. “And I wouldn’t mess with her, she teaches martial arts.”

Lexa looked at the blonde over her shoulder and her green eyes glistened with warmth and adoration.

Then Finn took the chance to punch her.

Lexa was jerked backward and bumped against Clarke, who lost balance and fell with her ass on the ground.

Angrier at the fact that he had hurt Clarke than that he’d dealt such a low blow, Lexa stopped Finn’s next punch in her hand and twisted his fist and arm so that he was doubling over and shrieking in fear more than pain because Lexa knew that barely hurt.

She imperturbably shoved him away and turned around to crouch in front of Clarke, checking her for bruises.

“Are you alright Clarke?”

Her eyes scanned the blonde, simmering with concern. The other girl offered her a tight smile, “I’m sorry you had to see this.”

Lexa cocked her head slightly in confusion and frowned. She laid her hand softly on Clarke’s cheek. “Why would you be sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about.”

The blonde gulped and met Lexa’s gaze and the brunette could have sworn she had seen those blue eyes flicker to her lips. She could not say so for certain though as she was so lost in that endless storming ocean.

“Your eyes are like a rampant storm in the high sea when you are sad,” Lexa muttered in her daze. “I hate seeing you sad.”

Clarke lowered her stare, cheeks flushed and creased brow, to sift through her purse while mumbling gruffly, “Aren’t you supposed to say those things to that crush of yours instead?”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow at that, but the blonde’s wide-eyed expression when she glanced back up alarmed her.

In a swift movement, Clarke took something out of her purse and extended her arms past Lexa’s head, shutting her eyes as she pressed the top of the can.

The spray was launched and Finn screeched in pain.

When Lexa turned around, she saw him hiding his eyes in his hands, stumbling around, and a huge red mark on his face.

She quickly turned back to Clarke with a chuckle and took the blonde’s hand in hers, pulling her off the ground. “Run!”

The two women ran freely towards the club and only stopped around twenty feet away.

They doubled over, panting, and laughed while looking at each other in awe. Lexa wondered how a creature such as Clarke even existed.

When they caught their breaths and calmed down, their hands were still merged, fingers now intertwined.

Clarke took advantage of that to pull Lexa in for a tight hug, which the girl relaxed into after a fraction of a second.

“It worked,” Clarke sighed contentedly.

Lexa leaned back, a puzzled expression on her face. “Of course it worked, Clarke,” she stated very seriously. “I wouldn’t have given it to you if it didn’t.”

Clarke chuckled in response and planted a gentle kiss on Lexa’s cheek. “You’re so silly,” she said with a soft grin.

Clarke finally broke off the hug but recaptured Lexa’s hand in hers.

“I am not silly, Clarke,” the brunette countered with annoyance and a frown.

“Of course not,” the blonde mocked as they walked to the club.

“I am serious, Clarke.”

“Me too,” Clarke grinned widely again and pushed the brunette into the club. “I’m serious when I say you’re silly _and_ adorable.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes in exasperation as they were engulfed by the loud music coming from the speakers.

Truthfully though, seldom had her heart felt warmer than in that moment.

 

****

 

Clarke held Lexa’s hand as she led her through the crowd. The feeling of the brunette’s hand in hers was oddly wonderful, like something she had been craving for weeks. She hadn’t.

Had she?

She shook those thoughts away and reverted her focus to her mission.

She stopped by a table and turned to Lexa.

The club had two storeys, each with one large bar. The ground level was a big circle at the centre, its area mainly taken by the dance floor. The other storey was a circumference that surrounded the circle below it like a balcony. A series of tables were dispersed along the circumference with full view onto the inner circle. Hip-high window panels protected whomever standing on the higher level from a painful fall.

Once they were seated, hands surprisingly still tied together, Clarke gestured at the bar and all its drinks. “Tonight you will be giving those out to pretty girls instead of downing them,” she told Lexa.

“And then what?”

Clarke smirked. “And then, you apply one of Clarke Griffin’s many tactics of seduction.”

“Have you ever applied any to me?”

“Are we holding hands right now?”

Lexa’s cheeks became bright pink as she looked down at their hands and quickly removed hers from Clarke’s. The blonde couldn’t help but smile.

“See? Easy,” she beamed smugly. “Now you know you’ve got them hooked when they start unconsciously miming your movements and leaning closer.”

Lexa raised a sceptical eyebrow. “How do I even get to that point?”

Clarke shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You let her talk about her interests, always focused on what she says so you can detect something she especially likes and make questions about it. You “accidentally” brush your shoulder and other harmless body parts against hers when you move. You maintain both intense and soft but also sexy eye contact. That one is your speciality,” Clarke added offhandedly without even thinking, blushing almost immediately when she realised what she had just said.

Lexa quirked a smug eyebrow. “I am glad you like my eye contact, Clarke.”

The blonde grinned and shook her head. “Asshole,” she replied playfully.

“Let me get this right,” Lexa returned to the original topic. “First I offer the girl a drink. Then I let them talk, maintaining eye contact and facilitating physical contact whenever possible—

“Without overdoing it,” Clarke interrupted with a lifted finger.

“Without overdoing it,” Lexa repeated with a nod. “Then when their body language is in accord with what you mentioned, what do I do?”

“You take them home.” Clarke blinked. “Or you check your phone, say your friend is looking for you and ask for the girl’s number. Never fails.”

Lexa seemed to muse on her words for some seconds. Then she asked, “How do I approach them?”

“I don’t know about you but where I come from a simple hello is enough. And a drink obviously.”

Lexa nodded but her eyes lingered on Clarke. “I guess I should be starting then,” she said in a tone that sounded less than enthusiastic.

Clarke nodded as well and her eyes, too, resisted leaving the sight of Lexa. “I guess so.”

“Clarke I—“

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice greeted.

Their heads turned to a longhaired girl with a pretty smile.

“Hello,” Lexa responded politely.

Clarke understood the girl’s intentions as she sat one hand on Lexa’s shoulder and gave her a drink with the other. “My name is Fox.”

Lexa’s eyebrows raised and she looked at Clarke, who just shrugged. The brunette’s gaze returned to Fox.

“My name is Lexa,” she replied.

Clarke took that as her cue to leave. She gave Lexa a smile good luck and headed to the bar. She was going to need a drink.

Clarke watched as Lexa accepted the drink from Fox and engaged in light conversation, albeit still sporting her ever-serious expression.

Clarke smiled. Even then Lexa was unable to relax.

Actually, the only times she had ever seen the brunette loosen up a bit were when they were together, just enjoying each other’s company. That thought brought a warm feeling to her chest.

“Uh… Miss?” Clarke snapped back to reality and the voice calling her. “If you want to sit at the bar you have to order something,” the barista said.

Clarke smiled charmingly. “A beer please, your choice.”

He returned the smile and proceeded to draft a beer for her.

Less than a minute later, Clarke was bringing the glass up to her lips.

With nothing to do, she took to watching Lexa and Fox.

Except that it wasn’t Fox anymore. Instead, Lexa was talking to an absolute bombshell.

The girl was blonde, curvy in all the right places and had killer legs. Her lips were curved in a stunning smile and her eyelashes batted at the speed of light every time Lexa leaned closer to whisper something in her ear.

Clarke clenched her jaw and took several large gulps of her Foster’s. She was going to need more than a few drinks to survive the night.

Clarke watched as Lexa successfully applied all her tips on the blonde girl (Clarke had decided to call her Pig Face because her nose was clearly too upturned and like, totally made her look like a pig).

Pig Face laughed a little too loud at something Lexa said and Clarke brought the glass up to her lips again.

She let out a frustrated groan when she realised it was empty.

“Hey,” she read the name on the barista’s tag, “Drew, could you get me another one?” He nodded. “Oh and… Could you just get me a new one whenever I signal at you?” She searched through her purse and took out her debit card, “Here, just put it on my tab. Thanks.”

Drew took the card and got her a new pint.

As soon as the glass was in front of her, Clarke took a large gulp. Alright, maybe more than one. Who could blame her though? She had nothing to do except watch as Lexa wooed every girl around the dance floor.

No. She would not just sit there and be audience to Lexa’s little flirting spectacle. No. She would use her own tips and score herself some girls.

Clarke downed her drink and got off the stool, still pretty much sober. She caught glimpse of a pretty girl and walked over.

“Well hello,” she greeted with her most seductive smile. “I was sitting over there when I saw you and I just had to come and talk to you.”

The girl smiled back. That was a good sign.

“I’m Clarke, by the way. You should memorise my name because you’ll be screaming it later,” she teased with a smirk.

The girl laughed, another good sign. “Very forward, Clarke. I’m Roma.”

Clarke admired her long brown hair and athletic build.

Conversation flowed naturally between the two. Roma was easy to talk to and open to Clarke’s advances.

“I don’t do any sports, I just go to the gym every once in a while,” Clarke was saying. “My friend Lexa though, she does martial arts and shit, she’s kind of a badass.”

Roma opened her mouth to respond, but closed it with a smirk. Clarke raised an eyebrow at the hesitation.

“You know Clarke, that’s maybe the fifth time you've mentioned ‘your friend Lexa’ in like ten minutes of conversation,” the girl noted. “Has she been away so you miss her or something?”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “What? No! She’s actually here,” she said pointing at two figures by the dance floor, “wooing some girls.”

Roma’s face fell, acknowledgement flashing in her eyes. “Oh, I see. Then that’s why.”

Clarke creased her brow. “That’s why what?”

“Oh, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“Clarke, I just met you, it’s not my place to tell you. You’ll have to figure it out.”

With that, Roma waved goodbye and left Clarke’s side. The blonde just stood there like an idiot, completely confused.

“Figure out what?” she asked no one in particular.

Clarke just shook her head, putting the exchange behind her back.

She headed to the bar and signalled to the barista, who was quick to bring her another pint of Foster’s.

She downed it like it was water.

 

//

 

Clarke watched as yet another girl, this one with incredible green eyes, walked away from her with an eye roll. “Shit,” she cursed through her teeth.

The barista laughed and leaned on the bar, elbows on its top. “You have absolutely no game, pretty girl,” he mocked.

Clarke turned her head to him and heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I— I don’t know what’s wrong with me, this is usually so fucking easy,” she complained. “It’s like my head is not in the game tonight.”

“It might have to do with that hot brunette you keep glancing at,” the barista suggested, pointing at where Lexa was talking to some cute blonde. “Or maybe it’s just the six lagers you’ve downed already.”

Clarke looked at him in shock.

“What? _Her?_ ” She huffed, “Pff please, I taught Lexa those moves. Why would I be affected by my own tips working?”

Drew just shrugged as he got off the bar. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Clarke’s eyes widened as realisation dawned on her.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “I’m too competitive. I’m so competitive that I can’t stand to see her succeed with _my_ lines.”

Drew laughed. “Yeah that must be it,” he scoffed, shaking his head and strolling away to attend another customer.

Clarke felt ashamed of herself for being so selfish. How could she be letting her competitive streak come out in a situation like this? She was there to help Lexa, not to race for who collected the most phone numbers.

Only then did she notice that Drew had left another glass for her, only this time it was whiskey.

Feeling brave, Clarke spotted another cute girl and downed her drink, grimacing at the burning feeling in her chest. She set the glass on the table with resolve.

This one was hers.

 

****

 

In spite of what her blonde friend might be convinced of, Lexa wasn’t doing so great either.

Getting girls’ attention was proving an easy task.

Lexa knew she was attractive and had a way of talking that seemed to effectively get girls hooked.

The early stages were therefore quite simple to seduce through. The problem was when the actual conversation started.

Lexa wasn’t short-witted; she was perfectly able to maintain deep, complex conversations. She could also talk about trivial things. The content of the discussion wasn’t the crux of her problem.

No. The crux of her problem was Clarke.

All because the moment the words coming out of the girls’ mouths exceeded a certain number Lexa’s mind and eyes invariably started drifting to the blonde.

That meant she got distracted and after a while the girls noticed and just huffed indignantly, walking away. Honestly, Lexa could not even blame them.

Truth was, Lexa couldn’t prevent the small pang of jealousy that hit her every time she saw Clarke talk to some other girl. The blonde was magnetic and if those girls had at least half a brain they would fall for her as soon as she opened her mouth.

And by the look of it, Clarke was trying her best.

Especially when she laid her hand on a girl’s leg. Or when she leaned in, exposing her generous cleavage. Or when she licked her lips and stared deep into her conquest’s eyes. Or when her gaze flickered down to a girl’s lips and both girls scooted closer.

Not that Lexa was paying attention to any of it.

Yes she was. Of course she was. And her insides burnt each time Clarke made a move on another girl.

 _Get a grip_ , she commanded herself mentally, _It’s not like she’s yours to be jealous of_.

Lexa gulped and turned her attention back to the girl at her side.

“…Don’t you agree?”

Lexa blinked, completely out of the context. “Sorry, what?”

The girl, hair almost as golden as Clarke’s, smirked at the brunette’s confusion.

“You know, you’re one of those people that get caught staring but doesn’t stop.” Lexa’s eyes widened and she choked on air. “So for how long have you had a crush on her?”

Lexa feigned ignorance, “Crush on whom?”

The girl laughed kindly. “Who knows, maybe the girl you’ve been staring at during our entire conversation.”

“I have not—“

“Lexa,” the girl interrupted with a pointed expression. “You can’t take your eyes off of her. It’s beyond obvious you like her.”

Lexa gulped, her gaze on her company unwavering. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be, just fight for what you want.”

The brunette tilted her head slightly, her eyes pensive and solemn. “Maybe I will.”

 

//

 

She was drunk.

Six pints of beer and two whiskeys on the rocks later, Clarke was pretty sure she couldn’t down another drink.

She wanted to blame it all on Finn, she really did. However, her eyes told a different story.

Lexa had been trying the pick up lines Clarke had fed her on various girls and the wider the smile those girls (those _bimbos_ , the blonde liked to call them) threw at the brunette, the more Clarke wanted to gulp down the entire stock of alcohol at _The Drop Ship_.

This had been a terrible idea.

She stood from her seat but regretted leaving it so fast as dizziness attacked her in a rush.

She just stood for a while and only then walked over to Lexa, who was seemingly enjoying her conversation with some blonde bim— girl wearing a ridiculously short black dress with ridiculously daring cleavage.

Not that Clarke cared.

Actually, maybe she could teach Lexa some lessons about picking up girls. Maybe she could steal the blonde bim—girl away from the brunette to teach her how to really woo a woman.

Yes, she could do that.

Then she might actually go home with the bim—girl. But not Lexa. Definitely not Lexa. Lexa wouldn’t be going home with that… thing.

She was just doing Lexa a favour, honestly.

Clarke had low standards and a bet to win, so literally all that fell on the net was fish, but Lexa had to maintain her standards high and aim only for the best.

Someone whose blonde hair was actually natural and had a nice fitting black dress and shoes that didn’t make them wiggle around like a drunken giraffe. Someone like Clarke.

No, scratch that. Scratch that immediately.

Someone like the girl Lexa was crushing on.

Yes, Clarke was doing something good for Lexa, keeping her celibate for her crush, making her stay on path, not letting her stray.

Yes. That was it. Clarke would only be helping Lexa if she sabotaged that conquest.

Actually, why not sabotage all her conquests?

Again, she was just helping Lexa. Just helping Lexa. Just helping—

“Hello Clarke.”

Clarke had to blink a few times to focus Lexa’s face. It must be the dim lights that were making everything blurry.

“Hi Lexa,” she spluttered.

“Harper, this is Clarke,” Lexa introduced them very politely. “Clarke, this is—“

“Harper? What kind of an ugly fucking name is that?”

Lexa’s eyes widened and so did Harper’s.

“Excuse me, Clarke?”

“It’s nothing,” the blonde waved off with a smile and then turned to Harper, who to her annoyance smiled in return. “I was just quoting my friend when she sent me a text telling me your name.”

Harper’s gaze went from Clarke to Lexa and back to Clarke and then she laughed.

“Good luck Lexa,” the woman winked at the brunette and turned away, leaving the two girls alone.

Lexa turned to Clarke with an incredulous look upon her face.

“What was that for, Clarke? She was a good person.”

The blonde simply shrugged. “I did you a favour, Lexa. First experience after Costia being that bimbo?” She shuddered. “Ew.”

“So I should thank you?” Lexa asked sarcastically.

“Yep,” Clarke answered popping the ‘p’ and flashing a slurry grin.

“I see you have had more than enough to drink.”

Lexa grabbed the blonde’s arm and led her to their table, sitting her down on the dark purple loveseat and sitting down next to her.

She sighed. “Is this because of Finn?”

“Yeah,” Clarke lied.

She had really tried blaming him so it wasn’t that far from the truth. Only the truth was sitting right beside her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the whole world.

God, was Clarke drunk. Now she was seeing things.

“It was not your fault, Clarke,” Lexa reassured her. “You cannot blame yourself for his paranoia or whatever that is.”

Clarke heaved a defeated sigh. “I know.”

Next she smiled almost childishly.

“You should smile more often.” Clarke loved Lexa’s smile, so kind and so true but also unfathomable and rare like it was holding a thousand secrets.

It probably was.

“Again with that question?” Lexa chuckled very softly. “You have seen me smile, Clarke.”

“Only with me. At me,” the blonde furrowed her brows. “I’ve only ever seen you smile at me.”

“Maybe you are the only one worth smiling at.”

“Shh,” Clarke clumsily rested her index and middle fingers on Lexa’s lips, making the brunette blush intensely. “You have a beautiful smile.”

Lexa’s gaze flickered to the blonde’s lips, something she then tried to cover up quickly by looking into the blonde’s dreamlike blue eyes — an even deeper trap.

Clarke licked her lips and slowly leaned in. Lexa did so too.

“I also love it when you stare,” the blonde continued, her gaze lost in Lexa’s and her voice barely a husky whisper. “I know you probably stare at everyone like that. But— it makes me feel special. So that makes for two things I like about you.”

Enraptured by the brunette’s stunning leafy eyes, Clarke dared lean closer, until she could feel Lexa’s fresh breath on the tip of her nose and the ghost of her lips on her own.

Lexa moved to close the distance as the speakers played the first chords of a new song.

Clarke stood up abruptly, forgetting the interaction completely.

“Oh my god that’s my jam,” she squealed in her drunken enthusiasm. “Come dance with me Lexi!”

Lexa blushed, already usual for the brunette.

“No, I-I think I will stay here,” she refused politely, still unrecovered from the intensity of the previous minute. “I’m no good at dancing.”

“What? With that hot bod? I bet you’re like the best dancer ever and you just don’t want to embarrass me,” Clarke laughed in a slur.

“Take the chance not to be embarrassed, then,” Lexa quipped with amusement, a smile pulling at her lips. Clarke felt herself swoon at the sight of it.

“I think I will.”

Clarke signalled again to Drew before Lexa could stop her and downed the whiskey on the rocks he gave her.

She then sped off to the dance floor, tripping twice along the way.

 

****

 

Naturally, Lexa ended up driving them home.

She had decided to just head home and lay Clarke on her bed, since she had no idea where the blonde kept her keys or where her room was or how to take her inside the house without waking everyone up.

The fact that Clarke was passed out didn’t help either.

The blonde was beautiful even in her drunken sleep, though. So beautiful.

She finally pulled up to the curb in front of her building and got out of the car, walking round it to open Clarke’s door.

“Hey Clarke,” she whispered at the sleeping blonde. “Time to go to sleep.”

The girl just groaned and clumsily slapped Lexa away.

“Come on Clarke, we have to go,” the brunette insisted in a soothing voice. “Come on love.”

Surprisingly, Clarke seemed to react to the nickname. Lexa’s cheeks got flustered for no one to see.

“Fine,” Clarke groaned, attempting to stand up. She failed miserably. “Guess you’ll have to take me in your arms, Commander.” She then hummed very drunkly, "You'd be like heaven to touch... Oh I wanna hold you so much."

Lexa rolled her eyes at Clarke’s wiggling eyebrows.

Even so, she wove her arm under the blonde’s knees and held her back, pulling her out of the car. She closed the door and locked the vehicle.

Lexa walked to the building and then up the stairs with Clarke in her arms, stopping at her door.

The blonde was light as a feather but it felt so good to be holding her and Lexa tried to do it as lovingly as she could.

“Alright Clarke, I have to put you down now, but it’s just for some moments,” Lexa spoke very softly.

The blonde let out a muffled whine, her face buried in her carrier’s chest. Still, she allowed Lexa to set her down on the floor, her legs still flailing a bit.

Lexa open the door as quickly as possible and grabbed the blonde again, lifting her off the floor and earning a giggle.

She carried Clarke to her bedroom and set her gently on the bed.

The blonde clutched at Lexa’s collar, keeping her from standing straight. “You’re so kind to me,” she mumbled.

“I do no more than my duty,” Lexa answered, although her lips were now drawn in a smile.

Clarke’s next words came out in a whisper, “Thanks.”

Lexa stood straight and tucked the blonde inside the bed, making sure she was warm.

“Cuddle with me,” Clarke begged, her voice a slurry whine.

Lexa swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I can’t, Clarke.”

“Do you find me that disgusting that you can’t share a bed with me?” Clarke countered, hurt in her voice.

“Never, Clarke. I adore you.”

The blonde’s eyes widened at the sincerity of Lexa’s words. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

Lexa smiled again. “Always.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be Lexa's part:
> 
> Pardon the way that I stare  
> There's nothing else to compare  
> The sight of you leaves me weak  
> There are no words left to speak  
> — Can't Take My Eyes Off You by Coco (Frankie Valli cover)
> 
> As a preview for the next chapter, remember that Clarke was completely hammered in this one. Also, it will feature the first scene I wrote for this fic, the starting point to the whole story!
> 
> Please leave your thoughts below, love to read them :)


	10. the realiser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here,” she said, offering her arm to Clarke. “I think you might want to take a shower now.”  
> The blonde raised a playful eyebrow. “Are you saying I smell?”  
> Lexa shot her one of her amused looks. “I was not going to put in those terms, but… Yes.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke thinks too much and Lexa doesn't say enough
> 
> or
> 
> get ready for the angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'd love to blame the system, the job, the parents, my friend Riven, the dogs or even the weather for my absence, but I can't. It's my fault. Next time I take too long, please do go and kick my ass over on Tumblr or on here. I deserve it.
> 
> You'll notice that the title of the chapter is the realiser — singular, not plural as per usual. So yes, a character will sort some stuff out. Hmmm who might that be? ;)
> 
> Anyway, fluff! angst! stupid stuff! Here they are:

“She didn’t come home last night.”

“Good.”

“Good? _Good?!_ Raven are you nuts? She could have gone home with,” Octavia lowered her voice as if the name was forbidden, “Lexa.”

Raven shrugged. “So what?”

They were sitting on their couch, some modelling show rerun playing on the TV.

Octavia looked at her like the answer was obvious. “It’s Lexa!”

The mechanic sighed. This was going to be difficult.

Octavia was a very smart and brave girl, but she was also a hard head. Headstrong, if you would. Once she made up her mind about something or someone, it was hard to make her rethink her judgement.

Octavia had made up her mind about Lexa. Whatever had led her to believe that the girl was no good for Clarke remained a mystery, but Raven was going to find out.

To solve a problem, you have to get to the root of it.

“What’s your problem with Lexa, O?” Raven asked with hopefully only a slight hint of annoyance.

“Come on Rae, you can’t honestly be serious,” Octavia groaned. “That girl isn’t good enough for our Clarke.”

Raven snorted. “If you weren’t with Lincoln and I didn’t know you’re straight as an arrow, I might think you’re jealous, O.”

“Fuck you Raven,” the girl said, crossing her arms against her chest with a pissed off expression.

Raven rolled her eyes. It was hard getting in that tough little head of her friend’s.

“I was kidding, O.”

“Whatever,” the younger girl pouted. She then turned back to Raven with exasperation. “Look, I just don’t trust Lexa, ok?”

“Why not?”

“Because I think she won’t hesitate to hurt Clarke if given the chance.”

All right. They were getting somewhere.

“Why did you suggest that crazy hook-up then?”

Octavia looked at her with disbelief. “Clarke told you?”

“Please don’t tell her I told you she told me,” Raven begged. “She would kill me.”

“Not if I kill her first,” the other girl grunted, crossing her arms and looking back at the TV. Tyra Banks was screaming at some girl for being ungrateful but that was no longer news.

Raven rolled her eyes and heaved a please-God-give-me-patience sigh.

“O, talk to me.”

The girl grumbled some more but eventually spoke again, “When I suggested that deal I never imagined that Lexa might have a crush on Clarke. I thought it would be hilarious if Clarke ended up in bed with that bitch.”

“What the fuck O? That’s people’s emotions you’re playing with!”

“Not Lexa’s, she doesn’t have emotions.”

“Octavia!” Raven exclaimed in shock. “What the hell?”

“Alright so she likes Clarke, big deal,” the feisty brunette scoffed. “Most guys and girls like Clarke, she’s blonde, beautiful and an all around amazing person.”

“Octavia, Lexa’s in _love_ with Clarke.”

The other girl huffed. “Love. Please. She’s known her for like what? A month?”

“Two.”

“That’s not enough.”

“You were screaming love to the wind only a week after you met Lincoln,” Raven reasoned.

“That’s different. Lincoln and I are soul mates.”

“Who’s to say Clarke and Lexa aren’t as well?”

“You can’t possibly think so. That’s bullshit.”

Raven leant back against the sofa, throwing her arms back and resting the back of her head on her intertwined palms.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, O,” she confessed. “I mean, have you seen them? It’s like magnetism. Like— like they attract each other from a thousand miles away.”

It was Octavia’s time to roll her eyes. “Don’t make me puke, Reyes.”

“It’s true.”

“Whatevs. Look, I called that ‘Lexa wins you the bet’ deal off because I realised that Lexa liked Clarke and she would probably try and make Clarke like her and then break her heart at the first opportunity.”

“Lexa would never do that,” Raven argued.

“Are you sure? Because she’s pretty much all about herself.”

Raven laughed. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. And if you knew what I know, you would agree with me.”

Octavia eyed her with suspicion. “What do you know?

Raven shrugged apologetically. “Can’t tell you, not my story. What I can tell you is that Lexa would be willing to break her own heart or even step in front of a fucking train for the people she loves.”

“Her people, that’s another problem,” Octavia murmured.

Raven lifted a curious eyebrow. “What about them? You’re dating one of them, so am I.”

“Exactly! And it’s going so great with both of us that— it has to go wrong eventually, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“One of these stories has to go wrong. It’s not possible for things to work out so neatly, for everyone to have a happy ending” Octavia explained with an aching tone. “I’m happy with Lincoln, you’re happy with Anya… Third time’s the charm I’m afraid it’s going to be Clarke.”

“Going to be Clarke what?”

“Getting hurt by one of them.”

 

****

 

Clarke opened her eyes with reluctance, her pupils still getting adjusted to the light.

Her mouth was dry, her stomach was threatening to explode, her throat was yearning to spill all the alcohol she had ingested the night before.

She yawned silently and stretched under the duvet. Once her eyes were fully open, she took in her surroundings.

She then went through her usual one-night stand thought process.

This was not her room, so she had spent the night at someone’s.

There was no one beside her between the sheets and there was no sign of there having been anyone. Also, nothing smelled like sex. She didn’t have the usual after-sex feeling. Ergo, she had not had sex.

What?

The room was neat, impeccably clean and arranged, not one thing seemed out of place.

There was the bed, a bedside table, a desk with a familiar computer on it and several shelves and bookcases climbing the walls up to the ceiling.

A picture frame sat on the bedside table, face down. Clarke didn’t dare touch it.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed a small body at the feet of her bed. Lexa. The girl was asleep, sitting very uncomfortably by the edge, her head resting on her fist, elbow on her knee.

That had to be the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever.

Clarke smiled. Lexa was broody, annoying and cold, but she would go to great lengths just for the sake of respecting someone she cared about.

Lexa cared about her. That thought made Clarke’s heart skip a beat. Only as a friend, of course, but she couldn’t help the warmth spreading in her chest.

Suddenly, her eyes found their way back to the frame that lay on the bedside table. It wouldn’t hurt to take just a peek.

Clarke glanced over at Lexa, making sure she was still asleep, and reached for the frame.

She kept it facedown until it was resting on her chest, ready to spill its secrets.

Clarke finally looked at it and gasped.

The first thing she saw was the dark-skinned girl, so beautiful, almost ethereal, like an angel, who she supposed was Costia. Clarke had only seen one person so pretty in her life and that was Lexa. It made her feel small and insignificant, how could she compete with such beauty as Costia’s?

The second thing she noticed was Lexa, so happy, holding Costia in her strong, loving arms and smiling like Clarke had never seen her smile. It was an open smile, wide and blissful, like she was living a dream she never wanted to wake up from. But she had. Clarke’s heart ached in so many ways it was hard to count.

It ached for the girl in the picture, forever trapped in the past, that happy Lexa she had never known and feared she never would.

It ached for present Lexa, who still kept that picture in her bedside table, unable to let go of the past and let herself break free from the shackles of guilt, shackles she shouldn’t be wearing in the first place because she had nothing wrong. But Clarke knew Lexa, she was just like her; both girls would rather take the weight of the world and its guilt on their shoulders than let others carry that burden.

It ached for herself, seeing that big smile she could barely believe was Lexa’s. Her insides burned and hurt like crazy, her fists clenched around the frame until her knuckles were bloodless white. She reluctantly recognised it as jealousy: Lexa had never been and would never be so happy around Clarke as she had been around Costia and that made Clarke’s heart ache so much it felt like it wanted to burst out of her chest.

It ached in fury against Costia, who had held Lexa’s heart in her hands and thrown it away. And really, who would even dare do that to such a pure spirit like Lexa? If Clarke were to hold Lexa’s heart, she would treat it like it was her own, better even, giving it all the love it deserved and more. Lexa deserved the world in Clarke’s opinion. Anyone who would give her anything short of that did not deserve her. Anyone who wouldn’t be willing to give Lexa the world did not deserve her heart. Costia had had Lexa’s heart and crushed it in a million pieces.

Clarke desperately wanted to pick up those pieces and mend Lexa’s soft and selfless heart back together, but she knew that wasn’t for her. That was for the other girl, the third girl — or maybe second, because who was Clarke to think she deserved a place in that list? —, the girl Lexa was so in love with.

Her heart ached again, now against the mysterious girl that held Lexa’s broken heart without even acknowledging it. How could that girl not notice the brunette’s eyes when she looked at her? Clarke’s nostrils flared thinking of that faceless woman who had the chance to love and be loved by the most wonderful girl and inexplicably wouldn’t take it. How could someone be so _fucking_ blind?

Clarke put the frame back in its place and the only two words on her mind were _how_ and _why_.

How could the other girl be so blind? How could she not see what was right in front of her?

Why had Costia been so stupid? Why had Lexa not been enough? Clarke knew a thing or two about not being enough.

Her stomach suddenly growled, the roaring feeling climbing up her throat, and Clarke knew this was being too emotional a morning for her heavily hung-over body.

She leapt off the bed, searching for a bathroom to save her.

She slammed the first door on the right open and thank God that it was the right room because Clarke didn’t think she could hold it any longer. She ran to the toilet, pushing the lid up and hugging the bowl like it was her messiah.

Less than a second later, she was spilling her guts out into her ceramic best friend.

Her previous thoughts flooded through her mind and her eyes widened. _No. No no no no_ , she repeated to herself in between discharges.

How huge was her hangover that Clarke was suddenly letting Lexa ride her thoughts, romantic thoughts for that matter?

Lexa was off limits. Off. Limits.

She shoved her previous wonderings to the back of her mind and spilled them out her throat along with all the drinks she’d had the night before.

The night before.

She had no recollection of anything that had happened after her first whiskey glass. Clarke remembered Drew or Crew or Shrew or whatever his name was giving her whiskey instead of beer and then everything was a blur.

_Note to self: don’t let baristas dictate what you drink._

Another thing she had already forgotten too were her mental ramblings about Lexa and that stupid picture, gone with the contents of her stomach.

Speak of the devil, Lexa showed up all of a sudden, panting and with a concerned tone in her voice, “It’s alright Clarke, just let it all go.”

And so the blonde did, throwing up some more. Lexa pulled the hair out of her face and stroked soothing circles on her back.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke managed to utter.

“It’s ok, Clarke,” Lexa chuckled so softly it made the blonde’s heart flutter. “You have nothing to worry about. Just focus on feeling better. Ok?”

Clarke nodded in her desperation. “Ok,” she mumbled.

She loved drinking but hated hangovers. If only she could have one without the other…

After a couple more discharges, Clarke felt much better, everything she had to expel duly forgotten in the bottom of the toilet.

She stood up but her legs were still flailing a bit and Lexa was quick to offer support.

“Here,” she said, offering her arm to Clarke. “I think you might want to take a shower now.”

The blonde raised a playful eyebrow. “Are you saying I smell?”

Lexa shot her one of her amused looks. “I was not going to put in those terms, but… Yes.”

Clarke laughed, regretting it immediately after. Too loud.

Still, she placed a perhaps-one-second-too-long kiss on Lexa’s cheek, feeling the brunette’s cheekbone under her lips.

Lexa was impossibly beautiful. Her gorgeous green eyes made Clarke’s stomach flip and butterflies flap their wild wings inside it, but her strong cheekbones and sharp jaw had an entirely different effect on the blonde. One that made her blush just to think about.

Which certainly wasn’t helped by the white spaghetti strap top and blue boxers the brunette was wearing, her crazy long legs and the elegant muscles on her arms showing more than ever. Clarke decided right there and then that she definitely wanted to see Lexa in a top and boxers more often.

(Preferably every single morning for the rest of her life.)

Noticing she had been staring for way too long, the blonde cleared her throat and avoided Lexa’s eyes at any cost, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Yeah I’ll uh… I’ll take a bath. Thanks, Stink Police,” she added with a smirk.

“You can borrow my clothes, I am not letting you put on those filthy garments again,” Lexa stated very seriously.

Clarke couldn’t help another smirk as well as dropping another peck on her friend’s cheek.

That was the moment that a loud high-pitched bark erupted in the bathroom.

Clarke looked at the floor behind Lexa and her eyes met what was possibly the ugliest dog she had ever seen.

So ugly that Clarke felt her insides turn and an acidic taste flow up her throat. Only a second later, everything that was left of the other night in her stomach was all over Lexa.

The girl looked down at her dripping clothes, then up at Clarke, and said with a shrug and a smile, “I guess we both have to shower now.”

Clarke quickly wiped away the mental image of her and Lexa showering together.

 

****

 

Lexa was mentally cursing herself for being so forgetful.

She had left her clothes in the drawer instead of taking them to the bathroom before her shower and now she had to smother Clarke, who was waiting for her in her bedroom, with a vision of Lexa in nothing but a towel.

The mere thought of being that exposed to Clarke made her blush violently.

Lexa opened the door to her room and was welcomed by a curious image. Clarke was sitting on one end of the bed, Lexa’s dog on the other, each glaring at the other.

“Pauna,” Lexa called, the ugly dog jumping off the bed to meet her. Clarke’s shoulders seemed to relax.

Lexa picked the small dog off the ground, attempting to show the blonde how docile it was.

“Her name is Pauna. She’s a Chinese Crested Dog,” she explained. “I found her two weeks ago, she was quivering in the middle of the road, rain pouring all over her… I just couldn’t let her stay there.”

Clarke smiled and got up, walking over to the funny pair. The blonde finally gathered the courage to pet the small ugly creature.

Lexa felt her chest warm up as she saw little Pauna melt into Clarke’s hand and the girl’s features soften into delight as the dog showed its affectionate side.

“I’m so sorry for the whole… puking incident,” Clarke spoke sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, those clothes needed to be washed anyway,” Lexa chuckled. “And apparently my training gear looks better on you.” Her eyes raked over Clarke’s body, taking in the black tracksuit pants and the sleeveless white t-shirt, and she gulped.

Lexa wouldn’t mind seeing Clarke in her clothes more often.

“Speaking of, you still have to show me one of your classes,” the blonde noted. “I’m serious, Lexa.”

The host nodded, “I know. So was I when I agreed to it.”

Clarke then opened and closed her mouth, seemingly hesitant. She frowned. “What happened last night?”

Lexa frowned too. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I asked. I only remember drinking a huge amount of beer and a glass of whiskey and then everything is a blur. I mean, I woke up here and I have a huge hangover, so I suppose you had to drag me here, for which thank you.” She smiled, not letting Lexa interrupt. “I know you want to say it was no trouble, but it was. So thank you, really. But what happened?”

Lexa mused on what to tell the blonde. Any version of the truth would have its dents. Maybe it was better that Clarke didn’t remember anything so she just shrugged. “That was basically it, you danced, talked, drank a little too much and then I decided it was best that I take you here where I knew you would be safe and I could keep an eye on you.”

She was rewarded with a soft thankful smile and big blue puppy eyes from the blonde. “Thank you.”

Then Lexa noticed Clarke’s gaze deviate to the towel covering her body. The brunette blushed.

“I… I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” she stuttered.

Clarke smirked and Lexa was pretty sure she had just checked her barely hidden boobs out. “No complaints here.”

That comment made Lexa’s cheeks smoulder.

She put the dog carefully down and reached for her drawers, taking a white oversized t-shirt and blue sweatpants.

“I could leave the room so you can get dressed in here,” Clarke suggested.

Lexa shook her head firmly. “No, you stay here, I— I will go. Stay.”

 

****

 

Lexa had offered Clarke to stay over so the two could get some work done on their assignment, making up for lost time last week, when Lexa had not been able to meet with the blonde.

Clarke had agreed but not before texting Raven about it. For some reason, her mind told her to steer clear of Octavia.

“Anya is on yet another field trip,” Lexa said explaining why the house was empty. “She would never say so but it’s because she is afraid of the dog.”

“Hence the lack of eggs?” Clarke asked with the lift of an eyebrow.

Lexa scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. “I might have forgotten to buy food this week.”

They were at a small diner that Lexa had guaranteed had “the best chocolate milk in the world, Clarke! You will never taste anything like this.”

“It’s just milk with chocolate powder in it, Lexa,” the blonde had scoffed, finding her enthusiasm endearing. “It’s the same everywhere.”

Lexa had taken the offence personally and Clarke had not been able to resist how adorable the brunette looked when she pouted, thus planting a fond and long kiss on the girl’s cheek.

Lexa had widened her eyes and looked down, her stern expression betrayed by the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Now at the diner, forced by her friend to try the infamous chocolate milk, Clarke had to swallow her words.

She looked at the glass in wide-eyed awe. “This is amazing.”

Lexa put on a smug look. “I told you so.”

Clarke leaned across the table and playfully nudged her friend’s shoulder. “You’re such an ass,” she laughed as she was sitting back down.

“Eat, Clarke. You need to feed yourself, especially after this morning,” Lexa advised very seriously.

“My knight in shining armour,” the blonde teased. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably die of malnutrition.”

“You know I was alive before I met you, right?”

“I also know it wasn’t half as interesting,” Lexa smirked and arched an eyebrow for effect.

She brought her own glass of chocolate milk up to her lips

“The Commander can make a joke,” Clarke laughed. “What more can you do that I don’t know of?”

“I can take you home with me for example,” Lexa sneered with a very serious expression.

“I am coming home with you, silly,” the blonde smirked. “We have work to do.”

“Still counts.”

Clarke shook her head, a smile in her lips. Lexa was remarkable.

“So now that you’ve introduced me to the best chocolate milk in town, I want to show you the best pancakes,” she decided with a wide grin. “They will take your breath away.”

Lexa gave her a sceptical look. “I doubt that pancakes will make me breathless, Clarke.”

The blonde wouldn’t lose a chance to tease her friend further. “The milk makes you breathless.”

“No, it makes me satisfied. Happy even,” the brunette conceded. “But not breathless. Food does not have that effect on me.”

“Oh yeah?” Clarke countered with an unconvinced arching eyebrow. “What makes you breathless then?”

Lexa’s eyes bored into Clarke’s own with intensity.

“People. Girls. One especially makes my breath catch in my mouth and dread coming out,” she stated in a low voice.

Clarke was enraptured by Lexa’s words and she really didn’t want to feel selfishly, but she also couldn’t help hating it when the brunette mentioned the girl she was crushing on.

It was Clarke and Lexa spending some quality time together now, why did the girl have to shadow the conversation?

 

//

 

“Favourite music artist?”

Lexa stopped what she was doing, looking at Clarke. They were in the middle of studying, textbooks and papers spread all over the bedroom, Clarke sitting on the bed, Pauna resting on her lap, while Lexa sat on the floor, something she had insisted she did all the time.

Clarke very much doubted that but had let the brunette have her way.

Her now clean clothes were in a bag by the bed, they had just got out of the drying machine and were ready to wear, but Lexa had insisted that Clarke keep the borrowed clothes and give them back at a later date.

“Come on Lexa, I know you weren’t buying a heavy metal record all those weeks ago,” the blonde pressed with a smirk. “And it wasn’t Taylor Swift either because they don’t sell her albums in that store. So who’s your favourite artist?”

Lexa was staring pensively at her, probably debating whether to say it or not.

She stood up and sat on the bed beside Clarke, giving the blonde plenty of time to fully admire how the cosy clothes lay on her body perfectly, in a homely sensual way.

“I usually tell people it’s Wolfmother,” Lexa confessed, “but it’s actually…” She trailed off. “I’ve told no one about this.”

“No one?” _Not even Costia?_

“No one.” _Not even Costia._

Lexa took a deep breath in and finally spoke, “Sinatra.”

Clarke burst out laughing, making Lexa blush. “I don’t believe you.”

The brunette’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t believe me?”

Clarke let out another laugh. “Nope.”

At the sound of that, Lexa hopped off the bed and walked to her desk. Pulled one of the drawers open, revealing a record player and a handful of vinyl discs. She took one and set it on the player, making it spin, and laid the needle on it.

The first notes of Sinatra’s “Strangers In the Night” started sounding around the room.

Lexa turned to Clarke, whose eyes were wide open, and extended her hand.

“Shall we?”

Clarke took her hand without thinking twice and let Lexa wrap an arm around her, resting her hand on the small of the blonde’s back, who in turn placed her hand on Lexa’s upper back. The two women joined their free hands in the air next to their bodies, now standing in waltzing position.

Lexa led the movements and Clarke could only gawk at everything happening in that moment. That song, her father’s song, along with the feeling of Lexa’s body flush against hers, the scent of earth and jasmine exhilarating, and the brunette’s hands on her.

It should have been too much, but it wasn’t. It was just right.

_Strangers in the night, exchanging glances. Wondering in the night, what were the chances?_

“You’re a really good dancer, Lexa!”

“I have my tricks,” the brunette smirked in response as she slowed the rhythm and turned their movements into an intimate dance.

_Strangers in the night, two lonely people. We were strangers in the night, up to the moment when we said our first hello’s._

Her judgement perhaps clouded by the slow dance, Clarke rested her chin on Lexa’s shoulder, and the brunette gulped at the warmth of the blonde’s breath on her neck.

She pulled the blonde even closer, finding comfort in their newfound intimacy.

_It turned out so right for strangers in the night. Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away._

There was something in those words, together with how _right_ that moment with Lexa felt, that made Clarke pull away abruptly.

The brunette turned away immediately, and Clarke did not get to see just how much she was blushing.

“Yes, I’d better—“ the brunette stuttered. “I-I’d better turn this off.”

Lexa walked rapidly to the record player and lifted the needle. She stopped the disk and put it back in its cover, closing the drawer after that.

“We should study,” Clarke suggested and sat back on the bed, desperate for an escape from all that she was feeling right then and still confused with her own reaction.

Why had she pulled away? What was so wrong with two friends sharing a harmless dance? What was so wrong with sharing such an innocent dance? It _had_ been innocent, right?”

 _Shut up_ , she mentally chastised herself. _It’s Lexa. In love with someone else Lexa_.

And it had been harmless right? It had been innocent, right? How could it not have been? But if it had been innocent, then why had it felt both so daring and comfortable? Why had it felt so… _right_?

Clarke shut her eyes and shook those thoughts away. She dismissed them as silly thoughts that stemmed from two simple facts: she had a tiring hangover and that was a fucking great song. Everyone got giddy dancing to Sinatra.

“It’s like a law of Nature or something,” she thought, realising too late that she’d actually said it out loud.

Lexa, who was already back to her studying spot, looked up curiously. “What is?”

“He who is unfit to serve his fellow citizens wants to rule them,” Clarke quoted, improvisation quick on her lips. “Ludwig von Mises. Or: proof Lexa is a tyrant.”

The brunette grimaced at her, smiling right after. The tight-lipped half-smile that still made the blonde weak in the knees.

“Get back to studying, Clarke.”

And so the blonde did, at least for the following twenty minutes. After which her hung-over mind refused to look at any textbooks again.

“Lexa, let’s do something,” she begged. “I can’t take it any longer.”

The brunette didn’t spare her a look, green eyes still locked onto the words on her textbook, mouth hidden by the palm of the hand supporting the head.

“I told you not to drink so much last night.”

Clarke groaned, her head still aching. “You said that when I was already drunk. Besides, you know doing what you say isn’t exactly my favourite activity.”

“I know.” Clarke swore she could see a smile on Lexa’s features. “You are too much of an independent thinker for that.”

“And I despise your life lessons.”

Only then did Lexa look at the blonde and her expression was stern. “They are important, Clarke. I am just trying to help you reach your potential as the amazing person I know you’re growing up to be.” Her eyes returned to the book. “Reach new highs.”

“I know how you could help me reach new highs,” Clarke mumbled absently and cursed herself immediately for it.

Lexa looked up again, eyebrows raised and cheeks flushed. “What?”

“What?”

“You said—“

“Nothing,” Clarke cut off. “I was just… Thinking it out loud.”

Not the best choice of words. Ed Sheeran was definitely not the best choice of words for that situation.

Lexa smirked. “Get back to studying, Clarke. Again.”

The blonde groaned. “I can’t Lexa, you know I can’t. I feel like my brain is having a party inside my head. A really loud party.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No,” Clarke answered maybe a bit too quickly. “I like being with you.”

Lexa’s lips drew a kind smile. “I like being with you too. But I’m afraid that there is not much to do here.”

“I could make you drop your books and have some fun. I bet you don’t even know what that feels like anymore.”

Lexa returned her attention to the textbook in her hands.

“Your presence is fun enough.”

Clarke groaned in exasperation.

“See, I’m supposed to be the boring one. You’re ruining my bad reputation.”

“I’m sorry for contradicting an unfairly placed label,” Lexa quipped sarcastically.

An idea shaped up in Clarke’s mind. “You know what, I’m showing you what fun is one of these days,” she stated. “And you won’t be able to be boring even if you want to.”

Lexa seemed to muse on that seriously, but the almost imperceptible smile betrayed her amusement. “Seem reasonable enough.”

“Good. When are you free? Like, all day long.”

“October 31,” the brunette smirked.

“Awesome,” Clarke beamed. “Well it’s a date then. I mean, a date as in—”

“Don’t worry, Clarke. I got it.”

Still, Clarke felt Lexa was having way too much fun with it. Anyway, on Halloween day, Lexa would be hers alone. Hers as in only hanging out with Clarke and at the mercy of her teachings on fun.

Also not hanging out with the girl she was into. But that hadn’t really played a role in Clarke’s invitation.

Happy with herself, Clarke stood up and proceeded to look around the bedroom, admiring out utterly Lexa it was.

It was neat but personal, very little furniture but cosy nonetheless. A few frames littered the shelves here and there, but mostly books. Clarke ran her fingers down the spine of some, most of them poetry, war or philosophy books. Unreservedly Lexa.

Films were also a recurring theme in Lexa’s shelves. Clarke read each title. Platoon, Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket, Saving Private Ryan, The Deer Hunter, Letters from Iwo Jima, The Bridge on River Kwai, The Hurt Locker, Das Boot, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, The Great Escape, Inglourious Basterds, Black Hawk Down, Napoléon, Paths of Glory, The Steel Helmet, The Battle of Algiers, All Quiet on the Western Front, The Dam Busters, The Longest Day, Zulu and The Sun.

Clarke didn’t know most of those films but correctly supposed they were all war-themed. Lexa really had a thing for violent politics.

Feeling that Lexa was watching her carefully, Clarke noticed that there were DVD and Blu-ray boxes behind all those war titles. They caught her attention. Why would Lexa put them there if not to hide them?

Clarke smiled devilishly at a wide-eyed Lexa and started pulling out the war DVDs, reaching behind them for the hidden ones. The first thing she grabbed was Legally Blonde and it made her gasp.

“I knew you liked it!” Clarke exclaimed with triumphant amusement, holding the box out for Lexa to see. “Liar!”

Lexa was blushing uncontrollably. “Liking is a strong word, Clarke.”

“Lexa,” the blonde pressed on the ‘x’ and extended the ‘a’. “You have the DVD. Don’t lie to me. That’s liking. A lot,” she added.

Lexa let out an aggravated sigh. “Whatever.”

“Let’s see what else you’ve got here…”

It wasn’t that she was saying those things but truly looking at Lexa from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t that she was distracting herself with words while her ears tuned in on Lexa.

Whatever it was, Clarke saw or heard or simply felt the movement behind her, one as surreptitious it felt secretive. So Clarke’s unconscious reaction was to rapidly turn to its source.

Lexa looked back at her like a deer caught in the headlights, kneeling and seemingly hiding something between under the bed and behind her back. Clarke smirked.

“What’s that you’ve got there?”

Lexa gulped. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Well, whatever you’re thinking it is, it is not.”

The blonde’s smirk grew wider. “I’m not thinking anything.” She cocked an eyebrow. “But judging by the way you’re so protective of it, I’m pretty sure that it’s all but nothing.”

Lexa huffed and grunted.

“You know I won’t give up till I know what you’re holding,” Clarke teased.

“Fine,” Lexa grumbled, but didn’t make a move.

“Fine,” the blonde repeated and held out her hand. “Now let me see it.”

Lexa sheepishly handed her a DVD box and Clarke’s eyes widened, a thrilled smile plastered on her face. It was her show, the one she had introduced Lexa to, and the brunette had apparently liked it — shared her liking for something important to Clarke — which made her indescribably happy. She held it gingerly in her hands and stared at it with fondness.

“You bought one,” she remarked in a timidly happy voice, and then she looked back up at Lexa with urgency in her eyes. “Selfie time.”

A dumbfounded Lexa took her phone out of the back pocket of her pants and handed it to Clarke. The blonde kneeled beside her and threw her arm around the brunette’s neck, squeezing it perhaps a bit too excitedly, that hand holding the DVD box. The other arm reached out ahead of them as the hand worked to keep both girls in frame. Clarke smiled widely, while Lexa was mostly just stunned and flustered, but as soon as they were untangled and the blonde saw the result, she was delighted.

“It’s perfect,” she murmured, looking affectionately down at the picture and then back into Lexa’s crazy green eyes. “We totally have to watch the show together now.”

It was time for the brunette to smile. “About that…”

She reached behind her once more and presented Clarke’s eyes with yet another DVD of the same show. The blonde’s eyes widened.

Lexa shrugged, a stupidly contented smile on her face. “One is for me and the other is—“

“For her,” Clarke completed, her voice harsher than she intended.

Lexa looked like she’d been hit in the head. “What?”

“The girl you like.”

“Well yes, but that—“

“That’s not important?” Clarke cut her off again and stood up, not brave enough to hear what words might come out of friend’s mouth. “You showed it to her, Lexa! _My_ show! _Our_ show!”

“I don’t remember being pulled into some sort of joint ownership of it,” Lexa replied coldly standing up too.

“That’s beside the point!” Unjustified anger started bubbling up Clarke’s body as she went off on a ramble, “It was my show, the show that helped me through difficult times, and I showed it to you because it makes me happy and I wanted to share that happiness with you because _you_ make me happy and I wanted you to feel how I feel when I watch it and you did and it felt so good and then you went and bought the DVD for some other girl who to be completely honest I’ve never seen and am starting to doubt the amazingness of because if you really liked her then you would be showing her picture around like she was the seventh great wonder!”

“But Clarke, she’s—“

“So much better than me? Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear already.”

Lexa looked at her in puzzled disbelief, eyes narrowed and bewildered frown in place. “What do you mean?”

“I have no idea!” Clarke cried out her exasperated confession, turning away from Lexa and shooting her hands up to the sky. “But you had no right to share _my_ thing with her!”

“You don’t understand—“

“Maybe I don’t want to fucking understand!” the blonde thundered, facing the brunette again, and both girls knew that was the end of conversation.

Lexa raised her chin, stoically looking down at Clarke but her gaze elsewhere, and nodded in acceptance. The blonde’s nostrils flared as she fell back into silence, lips pursed white.

Only then did Clarke notice just how close they were standing to each other. She turned her back on Lexa and grabbed the laundry bag, frigidly making her way out of the bedroom.

“I’ll call you when I feel like it,” she spoke, not bothering to turn her head. “Or maybe not at all.”

She hoped it had hurt as much as intended.

“Clarke,” she heard Lexa’s faint voice say. It still sounded sacred coming from the girl’s full lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Raven give your clothes to Anya.”

And just like that, she was out of the bedroom and then out of the house.

 

//

 

One week later, Clarke was still very much aware her explosion was probably uncalled for. One week later, Clarke was still royally pissed at Lexa. One week later, Clarke had still not laid her eyes on the brunette. One week later, Clarke was going crazy.

She was fucking everywhere.

The avocados tasted as soft as Lexa’s voice sounded. The pears had that stupid shade of green that reminded her of Lexa’s stupid eyes. A plum was a plum and Lexa’s lips were — well, plum. Raspberries just had a Lexa feel to them and passion fruit was… too passionate. Oranges were orange like a fox and that was Taylor Swift’s favourite animal and of course Taylor made her think of Lexa. The pomegranate was just like Lexa, rough exterior with the sweetest interior — also, why the hell did it bleed like a fucking heart?

In class, her sketching hands always found a way back to Lexa’s stupid face and those stupid full, sensuous lips and that stupid killer jawline and those stupid cheeky cheekbones and those stupid beautiful green eyes. Unpleasant, really.

She looked at pizza and felt sick. She looked at ice cream, which reminded her of Ben and Jerry’s, which was always sold with Domino’s pizza, therefore making her sick. She looked at pancakes and remembered promising Lexa she would take her to the pancake place. Obviously, she had not returned. Chocolate milk was no better. Terribly inconvenient.

And of course she couldn’t even bring herself to look at her records and she couldn’t watch her show — _her show!_ — without feeling nauseated and that asshole of a pepper spray can was still dancing around in her purse and reminding her of Lexa every damn minute. Not that she needed the reminder to think of Lexa because that traitor was really fucking everywhere.

Studying had become harder because the letters seemed to run away from the words and form Lexa’s name on the page. The leaves in the trees had the same colour as the brunette’s eyes. Every desk she sat on seemed hell-bent on reminding her that Lexa had amazing brown hair. Really, every girl (sometimes guys) she saw had some feature, as tiny as it might be, reminiscing of Lexa. It was like the girl wanted to annoy her without even having to show up before her eyes. Awfully bothersome.

Then she found herself reading some poem or looking at some painting or watching some film or just randomly picking some package from the frozen food section and immediately her first thought would be, “Lexa would like this” or “Lexa would hate this” or “I can’t wait to tell Lexa.”

Lexa, Lexa, Lexa. Fucking Lexa.

She was fucking everywhere.

Quite the vexing situation, if you asked Clarke. Dreadfully untimely.

“I’m not kidding, Rae, it’s like she’s _everywhere_!”

“I wonder why,” Raven muttered under her breath, earning her a glare from the blonde.

They were in their kitchen, making sandwiches — Raven had suggested pizza, but Clarke was just “not feeling it.” It was lunch time, they had a free afternoon ahead of them and the mechanic wanted to enjoy it fully.

“And I’m so behind on my bet with Octavia, it’s getting humiliating,” Clarke commented, suddenly realising what little time she had left on the bet.

“You won’t need any bets when you and Lexa start hooking up,” Raven smirked and waggled her eyebrows. That won her another glower.

“I’m serious, Raven.”

“So am I. Look,” the girl said, laying the knife on the table. “Go out with me this afternoon. Let’s go to the gym, blow off some steam. You need it, Griffin.”

Clarke considered her options. Either staying at home watching-not-watching Legally Blonde for the zillionth time that week, or going out to stretch her legs and get some much-needed workout done.

“Ok,” she acquiesced. “But I’m so fucking done with the stupid uni gym. Someone always shows up,” she groaned.

“Great, because I actually was going to suggest another place this time,” the brunette started, getting back to cutting the tomato and avoiding her friend’s gaze at all cost.

Clarke liked that idea. “Sounds good, where is it?”

“I can’t really explain,” Raven lied. “You know how I am with directions. Want to land in a place and always end up somewhere else.”

“Should I trust you to get us there safe and sound then?” the blonde scoffed.

“Trust the genius, Griffin.”

 

****

 

Lexa was feeling pretty miserable.

She would never admit to that though.

Clarke was more of an indispensable presence in her life with each passing day and not being able to see the blonde made Lexa feel like she was suffering from some kind of withdrawal.

But she wouldn’t reach out and apologise. Not this time.

Clarke had jumped to conclusions and cut off Lexa’s every attempt at talking and explaining the situation. She didn’t understand why the blonde hadn’t let her speak. Why Clarke even had reacted like that in the first place was an even greater mystery.

Anya just rolled her eyes and sneered every time Lexa tried to talk about it, whereas Lincoln had been sworn to silence by his annoying girlfriend.

Lexa knew that Anya actually liked Clarke deep down, she just had to understand that the blonde was not— well, she was not the kind of person Anya so firmly wanted to believe she was.

She was loud and annoying and stubborn and hasty but never bad. She might make mistakes and be wrong sometimes but always meant well. Clarke Griffin was a good person.

So yes. Lexa might not apologise. But she was still miserable because Clarke had avoided her like she was the plague.

If _only_ Clarke had listened.

Lexa knew how to freshen her mind and ideas and blow off some steam. She knew what always made her forget the outside world and focus only on one thing, one activity, one goal.

That was what led her to Grounder Gym — _her_ gym, like that had been Clarke’s show — that day, eager to finally get her mind off fucking Clarke Griffin. Fucking as in freaking, annoying, irritating. Not actually fuck— _ok Lexa, stop._

_Rephrase it._

That was what led her to Grounder Gym that day, eager to finally get her mind off Clarke fucking Griffin.

 

****

 

“Grounder Gym, how did you even find this place?”

Raven looked impatiently at her. “Gosh Clarke, I already told you. A friend recommended it.”

Clarke had a feeling she wasn’t telling the whole truth but pushed it quickly aside. “So, where do we start?”

They were already in their training gears, Raven with all-black top and leggings and Clarke in her sky blue muscle tank top and dark leggings.

Raven glanced around the room, her devilish smile never ceasing to terrify her friend. Clarke had already lived through too many of Raven’s ideas to like the sight of that smirk.

“What about the elliptical?” the brunette suggested.

Clarke shrugged, unopposed to that idea.

The two girls made their way to the elliptical machines, Raven expertly keeping the blonde’s attention all to herself and away from her surroundings by means of some conversation about Thomas Nagel.

Soon they were some minutes into their workout and Clarke was looking around the room, trying to pick out attractive people.

There was a well-built blue-haired guy with some very well defined muscles that Clarke supposed were as big as his vanity. A blonde girl was thrusting hard on the pedals but making no progress, but Clarke would give it to her on the attractiveness. However, her eyes inevitably landed on a dashing brunette some machines ahead, on an exercise bike.

Her ass was dashing at least, because that was about all Clarke could see of her. Her legs were visible too and damn, that girl had some fine genes running around in her blood. Her arms, lean and tanned, a tattoo on the right, were just about the right amount of perfect. Her long curly hair was carefully tamed in a ponytail.

Dashing ass? Fine genes? Leaned and tanned arms with a tattoo? Long curly hair? She scowled at Raven, who was wearing a shit-eating grin next to her. It had been planned. Raven had actually gone all out and planned for Clarke to spot Lexa.

“What the fuck, Raven?” she inquired, keeping her voice low so Lexa wouldn’t hear them.

“Prove your point,” the brunette dared in whispers. “Prove to me that you can stand close to Lexa, exercise in the same room, and not be affected by her. If you succeed, I’ll stop bugging you. Permanently.”

Clarke knitted her eyebrows together. “Fine.”

It was a challenge, a stupid one at that, and Clarke knew it — but she just couldn’t help herself. She needed to convince Raven (and maybe not just the mechanic) that Lexa was no more than her friend with a pretty face.

-er, said than done.

Clarke had a privileged view onto the back of Lexa’s body and front row seats to her flabbergasting workout. It was not enough.

Discreetly, slowly, ever so slightly so Raven wouldn’t notice, Clarke leaned just a bit to her right.

Now she had a better view of Lexa’s body. Of how her legs flexed and relaxed with each furious pedalling. How her hands gripped tightly onto the handles of the bike.

Yet it still wasn’t enough. Clarke leaned a bit more to her right and she was pretty sure she was too inclined for Raven not to notice but the mechanic was so focused and besides, Lexa was just too nice to look at for her to worry about such trivial things.

Now she could see Lexa’s profile and get a better look at the whole body. Clarke wondered what other activities the brunette put so much passion into. She immediately felt her cheeks go red.

Clarke had yet to really see the look on Lexa’s face, though, so she leaned further to her right. No, not quite there yet. Just a little more. By then, she had stopped her own workout. Not good enough, a little bit more to the right might just do the trick. No, still not the perfect view, she just had to incline herself a tiny bit more, and a little more and a little more and a lit—

If anyone asked Clarke about it, her fall was a gracious one. If anyone asked Raven, it was the fucking most hilarious thing she’d seen in her entire life.

And she’d witnessed Monty serenade his boyfriend, Octavia literally lose her pants in the middle of the street, Bellamy get knocked out by a six year old girl and Jasper run across the lawn completely naked.

The way Clarke fell on her side and her body thumped awkwardly and noisily against the floor, with a little yelp coming out of the blonde’s lips as she collapsed, however, definitely ranked number one in the list of the most hilarious things she had ever seen.

And she’d seen a drunken Anya belt out some freestyle rap rhymes.

If anyone asked Lexa about it, it was like the second coming of Jesus Christ.

Clarke was on the floor, ridiculously lying on her side, when Lexa came to the rescue with a worried expression on her face. The brunette ducked at Clarke’s side.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice soft and melting.

Clarke, on the other hand, was only now recovering awareness and her face became redder than the reddest red peppers when she noticed who was attending to her.

With strength she didn’t she had left, Clarke sat up and pushed Lexa away (gently, to her own chagrin), standing to her feet right after.

“I see you’re still not talking to me,” Lexa noted, stoic mask on again.

At the lack of any semblance of a coherent train of thought, the ability to waltz her way out of that situation or simply a better answer, Clarke was left with harsh, hurtful words. “Fuck you Lexa!”

 

//

 

Again, Clarke had overreacted.

She had not been at the peak of her reacting capabilities as of late, it seemed. She knew it was still about the stupid DVD.

It was their exclusive thing. Clarke, not anyone else, had shown it to Lexa and the brunette had appropriated it by showing it to another person. That TV series was symbol to their defining bonding moment and by giving the DVD to someone else, Lexa had taken value from it, made it less important.

And yet, every argument felt dangerously devoid of real reason.

Truth was, Clarke couldn’t really explain why she was so mad — she just _was_.

That was probably why she found herself hanging out with Monty and Jasper. She couldn’t do Raven for obvious reasons and Octavia was so against Lexa that she wouldn’t be able to provide objective insight to the conversation.

Monty and Jasper were not only objective — they were completely unaware of everything Lexa. Maybe that was what she needed.

They had been to the planetarium, Monty’s favourite place in the world, and eaten Mexican take-out, Jasper’s choice. And now they were seating on a park bench, Clarke’s decision.

“Ok can I just voice out a concern?” Jasper spoke, making the other two look at him. “Have you guys noticed how we’re all fine and healthy specimens? We never get sick; ok there was that crazy nuts incident but really, who minds getting high on nuts? But apart from that, when did you any of us last get sick?” Clarke and Monty had to agree with their friend’s logic. “And none of us wears glasses.”

“Lexa does,” Clarke mentioned absentmindedly and immediately garnered her friends’ attention. “Lexa wears glasses for reading or when she’s tired. She doesn’t like wearing them during the day though because it makes her look, and I quote, ‘like a weak nerd’,” she chuckled fondly.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd,” Monty assured.

“Or weak,” Jasper contributed.

“She’s just a silly hardhead,” the girl explained with a smile. None of her friends could really understand Lexa like she did. The brunette was too complex and fascinating for them to know her from only a handful of interactions.

Raven saw Lexa a lot too, but it was different.

Just like Clarke felt deeply understood by Lexa, she also felt that she deeply understood the other girl. And she knew Lexa felt like that too. They understood each other at a deeper level. Lexa was Clarke’s own little secret.

Had been. The bridges seemed to be crashing and burning as things were.

She heaved a sad, heavy sigh that Monty did not fail to notice.

“You’re sad,” he noted, no room for denial.

She shrugged. “Things have just… not been going my way.”

“When I’m sad,” Jasper chimed in, “I get to the root of the problem. Layer by layer, however thick they might be. It helps most of the time.”

Clarke chuckled faintly. Layer by layer. Root of the problem. Lexa.

“Have you ever been really upset with someone over a really petty thing?” she asked.

Both boys nodded.

“The more you like the person, the pettier and more insignificant your problems with them are,” Monty explained. “At least when it’s about small things between a couple.”

“There’s definitely not a couple in the picture,” Clarke laughed.

“Usually we’re just jealous,” Jasper spoke. “Not that I would know, but I’ve seen enough of Monty’s bickering with Miller to pick up on those things.”

That hit her hard.

“I’m not— I’m not jealous,” she said, admittedly more to convince herself than her friends. They already knew the truth. “But if I’m jealous, then that would mean—“

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“Tell us more about it,” Jasper coaxed.

“I… I don’t know,” she shrugged in defeat. “You just keep seeing them everywhere. You’re mad at them but you can’t help seeing them. Even the stupid birds remind you of them. You buy groceries and it’s their face, their hands, their voice, their eyes. Their everything. They’re just— fucking _everywhere_.”

Monty chuckled. “There’s a name for that.”

Clarke’s gaze snapped to him. An answer. That was what she needed so desperately. Objective, not strained by wishes or reluctances. Just a simple, honest to God answer.

“And what is that?” she asked.

It was Jasper’s turn to smile and talk. He did so with a shrug.

“Love.”

Clarke’s eyes averted to the floor. That was not possible.

She couldn’t like Lexa. Could she?

Thinking about it, there was no feeling quite like Lexa’s hand in hers. Or Clarke’s lips on the girl’s blushing cheeks. Or Lexa’s strong arms enveloping her in a warm embrace. Or her name in the brunette’s lips.

Thinking about it, a smile from Lexa was enough to make Clarke weak in the knees. A piercing verdant look was enough to make Clarke’s heart flutter. That dance had almost made her heart stop.

Could she like Lexa?

The humour and the seriousness, the stoicism and the poems, the arrogance and the self-despising, the roughness and the softness, the way everything about Lexa and her just clicked and made sense.

Clarke almost gasped at the realisation.

She liked Lexa. She _liked_ , liked Lexa.

She really, really, really, really, really liked Lexa.

And she could do absolutely nothing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I'll proofread this in the morning, when it's not 3 freaking am.
> 
> Preview for the next chapter: Anya and Octavia will get their chance to shine.
> 
> As always: thoughts! feelings! hearts! tears! Lay them all down there in the comment section :P


	11. the fighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It surprised her when Clarke talked again, breaking the tense silence. “I… I didn’t get to give your clothes to Raven to give them to Anya to you. Maybe I just didn’t want to because… I thought maybe it was the only excuse I could find to come back here and talk to you and just— hear your voice.”  
> “Maybe I didn’t ask for them back either because I kept hoping that you would be the one coming here and giving back.”
> 
> or
> 
> Lexa shines and Clarke decides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye mates! Let's play a game. It's called 'Pretend it's Wednesday'.
> 
> Well I'm not 100% satisfied with this chapter but you guys are my best judges so I'll leave the judging to you :p
> 
> This one is slightly shorter than usual because I decided to divide the original in two. Also, the observant reader might have noticed that there is a chapter estimate now! Woohoo! Only nine chapters to go!
> 
> Alright, I'll let you enjoy this without any more of my jibba-jabba.

The knock on the door pulled her out of her state of almost sleep. It surprised her too; it wasn’t usual to have uninvited guests.

She pushed the covers off herself and got out of bed, thinking it was probably the dog food she had purchased online and wondering why on Earth it was being delivered so early — nine am on a Saturday, she concluded after checking the watch on the kitchen wall.

She was in penguin-patterned blue boy shorts and a black tank top, her feet bare, her clothing clearly meant for a day spent at home, preferably in bed.

Not having to meet whatever annoying person was waiting for her outside her apartment.

Still, Lexa obliged to the bell and opened the door.

“Clarke,” she muttered, surprised, though she quickly forced her features and voice to adopt the dryness the blonde deserved to be met with. “What can I do for you?”

The girl was looking down at her feet and Lexa felt an unexpected urge to throw her anger away and envelop her in a loving hug.

She couldn’t, though. She had to stand her ground.

Clarke glanced up and her hand tugged at the strap of the backpack on her shoulder with unease. “Can I come in?”

Lexa held her ground, looking intently at the blonde, jaw clenched.

She figured letting the blonde in would do no harm. She nodded slightly and stepped to the side, letting Clarke step into the apartment.

The blonde stood in the middle of the living room, clearly questioning her own motives for coming to Lexa’s house. The brunette decided to cut to the chase.

“Why are you here, Clarke?” Her voice sounded cold but maybe not as harsh as she intended. She blamed it on the effect the girl standing in her living room had on her.

Clarke seemed almost thankful at having a clear thread of conversation to work with and opened her bag, taking carefully folded clothes from it and handing them out to Lexa.

The brunette looked at them but did not take them before a solid minute had passed, Clarke refusing to recoil her arm.

Lexa finally accepted the devolution, putting the clothes on the dinner table.

It surprised her when Clarke talked again, breaking the tense silence. “I… I didn’t get to give your clothes to Raven to give them to Anya to give them to you. Maybe I just didn’t want to because… I thought maybe it was the only excuse I could find to come back here and talk to you and just— hear your voice.”

Lexa sighed and she couldn’t prevent the ring of relief to it.

“Maybe I didn’t ask for them back either because I kept hoping that you would be the one coming here and giving them back.”

“Maybe,” Clarke smiled sheepishly.

Lexa smiled fondly. “Maybe,” and then decided to extend her own olive branch. “I have a tournament tomorrow,” she spoke tentatively. “Maybe you would like to come and watch? And support me? It’s not a class but you would still get to see me.”

Clarke looked up, hopeful, and grinned. “I’d love to.”

Lexa felt her stomach flip at the sight and felt home again. Missing Clarke had been all too painful for her to handle.

The thought scared her. Missing Clarke had been like drilling a hole through her chest. Should she really feel this strongly after just over a week? Lexa knew better than to think there was nothing dangerous in that.

Clarke’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “And Lexa?”

The brunette looked up and into the blonde’s eyes, revelling in the fiery blue of it.

She only acknowledged the question, knowing Clarke would prefer to speak her mind uninterrupted.

“Thanks,” the blue-eyed girl murmured, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Lexa stepped forward and took her hand, feeling brave.

“You know I could never be mad at you for long,” she said and brushed tender lips against Clarke’s knuckles. “And I want you to know, about the DVD—“

“I don’t want to talk about that anymore,” Clarke cut Lexa off and threw her arms around her neck, their noses just inches away from each other and blue boring into green with more intensity than ever before. “Just please accept my apology.”

Lexa’s arms snaked around Clarke’s waist. She dropped a feather-light kiss on the tip of the blonde’s nose and smiled. “I already have.”

 

****

 

According to Lexa, this was a ‘Jogo do Pau’ competition. Whatever that meant.

Clarke had grasped the general concept: two people fought with sticks inside a circle for five minutes or until one of them got a five-point advantage. If you left the circle completely or committed three fouls, you would automatically lose the game. That much was simple enough for the uninformed spectator to understand.

Lexa had also told her that you could only poke the head and torso but could hit the whole body, though it had to be with the tip of the stick. You couldn’t punch or kick though brief physical contact was allowed. Every hit and poke was worth one point, except for the ones to the head, which earned the fighter two points.

Clarke hoped she had understood enough of it not to be bored or utterly confused throughout the entire thing.

Lexa had driven them to the place just outside of town — Clarke should have been offended by the brunette’s refusal to sit in a car with the blonde behind the wheel, but it was just too cute — and now Clarke was sitting on the stands of a sports hall, waiting for something to happen.

The crowd was much larger than she had expected. Lexa had told her the competition was unofficial and meant merely to attract people to the sport and possibly raise some funds to register the event after five years running.

There were several circles drawn on the floor, each with a jury table next to it, and a main one at the centre. Lexa had told her she would automatically qualify for the quarter-finals, owing to her status in the Jogo do Pau community and the fact that she was one of the organisers of the event.

The atmosphere was great, people were cheering for their teams and fighters; some knew each other, some didn’t, but the festive environment made it worth being there already, Lexa or no Lexa.

A burly man in his forties sat down next to Clarke, tattoos dripping down his bare arms and a magnificent beard covering half if his face. He was a gigantic brick of a man but when he turned to her, a kind smile reached up to his eyes.

“Gustus,” he said and extended his hand for Clarke to shake, which she did.

His grip was tight but gentle. “Clarke,” she introduced herself with a matching smile.

A spark of recognition lit up his dark eyes. “You’re Lexa’s Clarke.”

The girl’s ears caught fire. “I suppose you could say that,” she muttered and looked down, trying to hide the embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

“Lexa added a guest to her list at the last minute. That’s how I know who you are,” he explained. “She also talks about you a lot. Yes, eyes as blue as the sky, I can see that. I hear you are a great friend, sky girl,” he added with a pointed smile.

“Lexa makes it easy,” Clarke shrugged with a smile and a blush pressed into her cheeks. Her curiosity won the next battle. “If it’s not overstepping… What are you to Lexa?”

He laughed heartily, throwing his head back, and his laughter sounded like thunder around the hall. Clarke wondered what might be so funny.

“I’m guessing she didn’t tell you,” he spoke finally.

 _No shit._ “No, she did not,” Clarke confirmed, creasing her brow.

“It’s not my story to tell, sky girl. I’m Lexa’s friend.” The he added with a conspiratorial waggle of his eyebrows, “And a cop.”

A cop? Lexa? Friends with a cop?

“This really is not my story to tell, Clarke,” he explained. “But if you ask Lexa she might tell you. She likes you very much.”

Clarke gave him a faint smile. If only that had the meaning she wished it to have. “She’s a good friend.”

A voice sounded around the hall some minutes later, announcing the beginning of the tournament and some technical stuff Clarke didn’t get a word of.

The fighters due for the first fights lined up, sticks in hand, some using knees and elbows protection and all of them wearing a helmet. The sticks were either unicolor or had a second colour at the tip.

Clarke noticed with pride that there were several women amongst the fighters. She immediately knew Lexa had had a hand in that.

With each fight lasting only five minutes, it was not long before the final eight, who would play in the quarter-finals, were called to the court.

Clarke had found herself enjoying the show, but the mere thought of watching Lexa fight made her heart jump in her chest.

The competitors made their way into a line in front of the stands, greeting the public. Lexa was not hard to find.

Her black knee-high shorts fitted her amazing legs really well and the sleeveless t-shirt of the same colour was a sight to behold. She wore gloves like the rest and her stick was dark grey with a blood red tip. What set her apart from everyone else, however, was the helmet.

Or lack thereof.

Clarke turned to Gustus, who chuckled. “She would wear the helmet on an official competition. But here, can you imagine someone trying to tell her what to do and surviving to tell the story?”

Clarke imagined Lexa being told what to do by whoever responsible for the kits and throwing them a glare that would shut them up immediately. A smile tugged at the corners of the blonde’s lips.

“She likes to feel her hair free,” Clarke murmured still smiling.

Lexa seemed to be looking for someone in the stands and when her eyes finally locked with Clarke’s, the blonde knew she had found what she was looking for.

Clarke directed a stunning grin to her and Lexa smiled that small smile that still made the blue-eyed girl’s stomach flip in her belly. Clarke hoped she was sending enough good energy to Lexa for the brunette to win that damn tournament.

Lexa got rid of the first opponent with riveting ease.

Yet Clarke was not too happy about it, as she was enjoying admiring her friend’s performance. Each time she spun, Lexa’s hair flew just behind her like a beautiful and obedient cloud of grace. The clothes were too perfect and the weapon made her look like a ruthless warrior. Her expression of fierce determination was enough to turn Clarke on.

The fight ended when Lexa built a five-point advantage, not even letting the clock run its time. She shot up a fist, holding it in the air, collecting cheers from the public. Her almost smile was that of feral satisfaction. Her gaze, however, rested nowhere but on Clarke’s. How could it be any other way? That was where it belonged.

Such was the case of the semi-finals fight. With Clarke cheering for her, the brunette got rid of her opponent quite easily.

Lexa had told Clarke to expect her to reach the final, but the blonde had laughed it off as presumption. As it turned out, Lexa had been all but presumptuous. She had just been telling the truth.

Her opponent in the final was a muscular young man, his name Atom, clearly Lexa’s greatest competition even before she had pushed through the chickens trying to face a threat. A vain one, Clarke remarked mentally.

“Go Lexa!” she yelled to the court and the girl acknowledged the support with a nod and a thankful glance in Clarke’s way.

The fight started and both contestants were intense, trying to get their sticks to hit their adversaries as much as they could. The crow was screaming for the fighters, each faction cheering their favourite on. Clarke kept on pushing Lexa forward with her support.

After three minutes, the score was 6-4 for Atom and Clarke was worried sick. The fight was the roughest she had seen that day and both contestants were clearly tired. Why had Lexa not put on a helmet? It was stupid and reckless and irresponsible and the girl had to understand that she wasn’t some god on Earth and that she could get hurt. Badly hurt.

At a certain point, Atom failed a blow but ended up hitting the side of Lexa’s head with the middle of the stick. That earned him a penalty, lowering the score to 5-4.

Clarke, however, was more worried about the way Lexa had stumbled sideways, completely disoriented, and taken more than a few seconds to get back to reality. When she did, the feral glint was back in her eyes.

With the result not in her favour and less than one minute left to play, Lexa took an offensive stance, attacking repeatedly and not giving her opponent space to strike a blow.

It was only natural, then, that with five seconds left on the clock her opponent blocked one of her thrusts and responded. Lexa deflected it easily and, quick on her hands and feet, she dealt a swift and brutal blow to the head.

Two points. 5-6. The bell rang. Lexa had won the battle. Clarke was immensely proud, feeling an urge to run downstairs and hug her friend.

As with all her other fights, the brunette raised her gloved fist to the sky, earning cheers and applause. Her face was serious but her eyes triumphant and when she locked eyes with Clarke, slightly lowering her arm to point an acknowledging finger at the blonde, her lips widened in a joyful smile, the biggest Clarke had ever seen on her, bigger than the one on that picture with Costia and she knew she shouldn’t compare, but it was inevitable and the feeling was too great to deny.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile back, warmth spreading in her chest, her muscles tightening in her arms, happiness flooding her veins. If only they could live in that moment forever.

Clarke noticed an almost imperceptible stumble and realised Lexa was still in a daze from the strong hit to the head. Hence the big, joyous, uninhibited smile.

Cursing under her breath, Clarke ran away from the stands and towards the organisers’ desk as soon as Lexa returned to the locker room. When she got there, a stocky woman in her sixties and her supposed husband, tall and slim with a moustache, had just finished talking to a young couple.

The woman gave Clarke a kind smile. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”

The blonde cut to the chase. “I’d like to know why my friend fought without a helmet. I thought it was against the rules.”

The woman chuckled softly. “And it is, sweetie, but Lexa kind of makes her own rules.”

“You have to try and set your foot!”

“Everyone has, but that girl is impossibly strong-minded. No one can talk her out of anything.”

“And then she gets hurt. She’s still stunned from that hit,” Clarke complained, trying not to let her voice go out of control. “And she needs to be assisted, she might need to go to the hospital.”

“I challenge to survive that glare, sweetie,” the woman chuckled again.

“Who needs to go to the hospital?”

Clarke spun on her heels and turned to Lexa with as hard an expression as she could convey. The brunette wouldn’t get away that easily.

“You do!” Clarke exclaimed, worry in her voice. “What the hell, Lexa? Going out there without a helmet?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I am a grown up, conscientious and responsible woman, Clarke. I made this choice conscientiously and responsibly.”

“Clearly you didn’t because it was pretty stupid.”

Lexa gave her an annoyed look. “Clarke, I—“

“Oh my god, you’re hurt.” Clarke took the brunette’s face within her hands, palms on cheeks and thumbs stroking her eyebrows. She turned Lexa’s face to examine the bloody spot. “It’s nothing serious, I think. And you seem all right now. If you feel nauseous, go to the hospital.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Please, Clarke. I’m perfectly—“

“You hear me?” Clarke repeated with intensity.

The brunette pouted averted her stare from the blonde’s eyes. “Yes,” she conceded more than reluctantly.

Behind Clarke, the old couple was in shock at the sight of Lexa being coerced into obeying someone. Let alone a tiny blonde.

“And you’re never not wearing a helmet again,” Clarke pressed. “It’s dangerous and stupid.”

“But Clarke, I don’t think that’s—“

“No but’s!” the blonde cut her off and pulled Lexa’s face closer to hers, their foreheads almost touching. The brunette looked quite ridiculous, her cheeks pulled to the centre making her full lips resemble those of a fish. “If you don’t start protecting yourself I won’t watch any more of your tournaments. You could’ve got badly hurt, Lexa!”

The brunette huffed to that. “I just like my hair flowing freely.”

“I’ll give you your hair flowing freely,” the blonde admonished. “I don’t want to see you without a helmet again!”

“So do I have to wear a helmet to class too?” Lexa joked and Clarke simmered, releasing the brunette’s face.

“Fuck you,” she spat and crashed her hands against Lexa’s shoulders, pushing her away.

Clarke stomped out of the room, heading up.

She didn’t really know where she was going or even why, but her feet led her up the fire stairs and to the rooftop. There she finally found space to breathe.

The October air was chilly but she basked in it, glad that it was piercing through her nostrils and drilling into her lungs, keeping her mind sharp.

She walked to the edge, sitting on the ledge, her legs swinging over the city below.

Clarke liked high spots, seeing the world beneath her feet. It made her feel closer to the stars. To her father. To a time when she didn’t have expectations to meet, standards to live up to. A time when she was nothing short of good enough. Better even.

Engulfed by her own thoughts, Clarke pushed her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms over them, chin resting on forearms.

After a great day and being so, so proud of Lexa, it was almost a sin to feel so low again. The brunette was the only person with whom Clarke felt… whole.

It was a strange feeling, considering Lexa was so recent in her life, only a couple of months had passed since they had officially met. Nevertheless, Clarke felt like she had known her for much longer, like— like it was so easy to _know_ and relate and find a kindred spirit in Lexa that it sounded less like a coincidence than fate. Silly thoughts, she knew that, but fun and beautiful to entertain. Comforting, even. Maybe then she wouldn’t be scared at how much she had grown to care for Lexa in such a short amount of time.

Clarke felt someone approach her and sit beside her on the edge of the roof. She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“Clarke,” Lexa spoke hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

The blonde refused to look or reply. Instead, she took to fidgeting with a loose strand on the knee of her jeans.

“Clarke, please talk to me.”

She sighed and finally lifted her chin off her arms and looked up at Lexa. “I don’t think you acknowledge how stupid you were. You could’ve died, Lexa.”

The brunette raised an eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”

“No it’s not! Brain damage is a very dangerous thing to toy with. And—” Clarke reached for Lexa’s hand and intertwined their fingers together. “And it would cause me a lot of pain to see you hurt.” She started playing with the brunette’s thumb with her own. “You’re… You’re important to me, Lexa.”

Lexa gulped and looked Clarke earnestly in the eyes. “You are important to me too, Clarke. You are quickly becoming one of my best friends.”

Clarke tried to ignore the pang of disappointment at that last part. Was being friends with Lexa enough anymore? It had to be.

For the sake of their friendship, it had to be.

So Clarke smiled at Lexa like the girl set the sun in the sky. Maybe she did. Whenever she was with the brunette, Clarke felt like she was flying high above the clouds.

“I think you have a medal and a trophy to receive,” she reminded amusedly.

Lexa shrugged. “I would rather be here with you.”

“Well I want to be able to look at that trophy and say I helped you win it so,” Clarke let go of Lexa’s hand, standing up and wiping the dust off her bottom, “do me a favour and allow me to walk you to the podium.”

Lexa smiled at that. “Will you give me the bouquet and kiss my cheek?”

The blonde laughed. “I’m pretty sure they have people for that.”

“Pity.” The brunette stood up too and took Clarke’s hand with a smirk. “I was really looking forward to that kiss.”

“Sorry, I only kiss on the second date,” the blonde teased.

Lexa seemed to hesitate at that, opening and closing her mouth. Then she settled for not saying anything and guiding Clarke out of the roof.

“Wait!”

Lexa turned around to face her friend and Clarke could swear there was hope in her eyes. Hope for what?

“I forgot something very important,” the blonde explained. She snaked her arms around Lexa’s waist in a tight hug. “Congratulations, champ.”

The brunette delightedly melted into the hug, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s neck. “Thank you. Clarke.”

The ceremony was short and simple and maybe not up to her usual standards, but none of that mattered to Clarke. She held Lexa’s hand most of the time, only letting her go when it was time to climb the podium. She even got to plant a kiss on the brunette’s cheek and hug her as soon as she got down from the podium. The highlight had definitely been being allowed to pose for a photo next to the brunette.

“I could get used to this,” Clarke smiled while toying with the medal hanging from Lexa’s neck and resting on her chest when they were standing outside the car.

“Me too.”

“Why didn’t Anya and Lincoln come too?”

“They had to hold the fort while I was gone,” Lexa shrugged. “Besides, I like being alone with you.”

“Gustus was there too,” Clarke chuckled.

“I was too busy looking at you to notice he was there.”

“Well that’s rude,” the blonde scoffed, playfully slapping her friend’s shoulder. “Some thief probably got away because he left his cop job to be here today.”

“He is on the narcotics department.”

“Well, I can’t make a joke with that,” Clarke pouted. Then she kissed Lexa’s cheek. “Now come on, champ. Let’s flash that bling around town and make all our friends jealous.”

“This has no real value, Clarke,” Lexa reasoned and that earned her an amused eye roll.

“I know, Lexa. But that doesn’t mean we can’t show off. All that fake gold has to be put to good use. Now let’s go.”

“I am so glad you came,” the brunette said seriously. “Thank you.”

Clarke winked as she rounded the car to get in the passenger seat. “Just make sure you wear a helmet next time.”

 

****

 

Lexa was quite tired when she got home. The vision that welcomed her did nothing to make her any less tired.

Luna was sitting on her couch, face set in a determined expression, and Anya was sitting next to her with an awkward look on her face.

“Is anything wrong?” Lexa asked, setting her bag on the floor.

Anya was the one to reply. “Luna wants to talk to you.” She stood up, an announcement that her job there was done. On her way to her bedroom, she rested a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”

Well, that was comforting.

Lexa stood tall and took decisive steps towards the couch and Luna. The dark-haired girl didn’t give off the friendliest of vibes.

“What is it that you wish to talk to me about?” the brunette asked, her voice unwavering.

Luna stood up. “You’re a hypocrite.”

Lexa raised a surprised eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me right. You’re a hypocrite.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t know—“

“Yes you do,” Luna cut Lexa off. “Stay away from Clarke, Luna,” she started, mimicking Lexa. “Clarke is trouble, Luna. She’s going to break your heart, Luna. Tell me, did you say that before or after you decided that you wanted to fuck her?”

Lexa was taken aback by her friend’s aggressiveness. “I meant what I said, Luna. Clarke was looking for emotionless companionship. You were looking for feelings.”

The girl scoffed. “You even have the nerve to admit that you fucked her,” she spat.

“I did not—“

“I saw you leaving the club together, Lexa. You were driving her car. Don’t tell me you didn’t do it.”

“We did not!” Lexa snarled, nostrils flaring and jaw locked in silent ire. “I brought Clarke here because she was too drunk to drive. She slept in my bed, I sat on the edge. Nothing happened.”

“Oh fuck you, Lexa!”

The second time someone told her that in one day. If only someone did something practical about it. Preferably Clarke.

“Why are you attacking me, Luna?” she demanded to know.

The dark-haired girl laughed humourlessly. “You tell me not to fall for Clarke and to stay away from her, yet you can’t even conceal the adoration in your voice when you talk about her! You tell me to be careful and then you go and fall for her at the first opportunity? Or did you say those things to keep me away from her so the coast was clear for you?”

Lexa could not look her friend in the eyes. All those accusation were close enough to the truth.

She gulped before talking, “I… I let jealousy take over me.”

Luna squinted at her in disbelief and, it seemed, disgust. “So you manipulated me? You were never worried about my well-being, you just wanted to get in her pants!”

“I would never do that.” Lexa was trying to maintain her calm, keeping a stoic expression and steeling her voice. “I _was_ worried that Clarke might not reciprocate your feelings. She is… wonderful, but I do not know that you would have been happy with her.”

“And you can?”

Lexa sighed, defeated. “No. But her mere presence is enthralling enough to make me forget the pain of her intangibility.”

“Go fuck yourself, Lexa.”

With that, Luna grabbed her purse and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Lexa sat down on the couch, face in her hands.

Luna was right; she was a hypocrite.

She had led the girl to believe that Clarke was no good for her but how could the blonde not be the best thing that had ever happened to anybody? She certainly was the best thing that had ever happened to Lexa.

Her friendship was… fulfilling. Her smile was a celestial stroke of the brush over a dim canvas and it made Lexa’s heart grow bigger.

However, she would not lose Luna’s friendship for an impossible romance with Clarke. She could not.

“Hey kid, how did it go?”

Lexa lifted her face off her hands and looked at Anya.

“Do you want the pink lenses version or the real version?”

Anya shrugged. “The pink lenses version would be nice.”

“It was terrible.”

Anya heaved an I-guess-I-have-no-choice sigh and sat down next to Lexa.

“Look, you have to sort things out with Clarke,” she advised. “I can’t stand her but you’re clearly all over her so you have to make a decision. Pursue or let her go.”

“If I pursue, I will lose Luna.”

“Yes, probably. But you will also get the insufferable girl of your dreams.”

“That is unlikely, Anya. Clarke does not feel the same way about me.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

Lexa mused on the possibilities. She felt awful about what she had done to Luna and was terrified of losing Clarke’s friendship over a mindless crush.

It might not be just a crush. She might actually be falling for Clarke. But it was an uncertain thing that could go both ways, either terribly right or terribly wrong.

Luna’s friendship was a certainty. She was family; they had grown up together and shared a history that no love could nullify. Luna was a constant in her life, whereas Clarke was a variable.

And yet, the image of the blonde’s sky-blue eyes made her will falter.

Lexa clenched her jaw and set her mind on one goal only. “I cannot risk losing Luna, she’s my family. I cannot risk losing Clarke’s friendship either,” she stated and stood up, steely resolve in her eyes. “It’s time I stop playing games only to fool myself. Unless something extraordinary happens, Clarke and I will never be together. I will therefore stop pursuing her.”

Anya raised an eyebrow. “Were you pursuing her at all?”

Lexa blushed. Not really. “Well… Kind of. I almost told her how I feel,” she was quickly to regain composure. “If Clarke liked me back, that would be a different story. But she doesn’t so it makes my decision easy.”

The girl with cheekbones as sharp as knifes frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lexa braced herself for the lie that would have to become truth. “Clarke and I are just friends.”

 

****

 

“You two are not just friends!”

“No no no no no. I can’t Rave, I can’t,” Clarke spoke with exasperation, her gestures intense and desperate.

“Clarke, you’re crazy for that girl.”

The blonde stopped in her tracks. “Crazy is a gross exaggeration, Reyes,” she countered.

The brunette threw her hands up in the air. “Call it whatever you want, Griffin. Just please do something about it.”

“I can’t, Raven. She’s in love with some other girl, I can’t jeopardise that happiness!”

Raven groaned in exasperation. “What girl, Clarke? What girl? Only girl I see is you! You enter the room and Lexa shoots rainbows out of her eyes like fucking Cyclops!”

The blonde snorted. That wasn’t true.

“Clarke,” Raven tried again. “You two hold hands, cuddle, eye-fuck, flirt and spend all your time together. Only thing left is actually acknowledging your feelings for each other.”

“You’ve barely seen us together, how can you even say we ‘eye-fuck’?” Clarke scoffed, emphasising her point with air quotes.

“You eye-fuck your phone each time you receive a text from Lexa.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “So yes, I like her. So what? You know I can’t do anything about it,” she complained. “First and foremost I love Lexa’s friendship and I’m too scared of throwing that away. And the other girl… I can’t do that to her.”

“Fuck that, Clarke! Fight for yourself for once!” Raven exclaimed. “Be selfish, fight for your own happiness!”

Clarke sat down on the couch, face hidden in her hands. “I just—“

“Yes you can Clarke. Please, C… I can’t stand to see you like this.”

The blonde raised her face off her hands.

“Like what?”

“Last week you were moping around every corner because you’d had a fight with Lexa and you two would never be friends again, now you’re moping around every corner because you like her and don’t want to lose her friendship. I miss eating pizza!”

Clarke took a deep breath. Her friend did not understand. She couldn’t.

“Here’s the thing, Raven. I tell her, then what? She feels guilty for not reciprocating then feels guilty for being in love with another girl and then— she’s stupidly selfless so of course she’ll sacrifice her own happiness so I don’t have to see them together and feel miserable alone.”

Raven rolled her eyes so hard that Clarke felt the house tip. She wondered if it would still be able to hold so many people in that condition.

“You’re completely blind, aren’t you?” Raven’s voice was  a mixture of harsh and soft.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

Clarke’s thoughts drifted to the woman Lexa was in love with. Her mind had been playing those tricks on her lately.

“I bet that girl is amazing,” she mused. “That’s what Lexa deserves, nothing less. Someone as wonderful as her.”

“Like you.”

“No, like Lexa. Like her.”

Raven heaved a deep desperate-but-defeated sigh, making Clarke flinch at the honesty of it.

“You want to remain blind? Fine,” the brunette started off harshly. “But please don’t keep on torturing yourself. Either you go all in or all out. The cuddling, the kissing cheeks, the hugging, the handholding… It’s not healthy, Clarke.”

The flat door opened at that moment, revealing a concerned Octavia with a baseball bat in her hands.

“So I was going to buy the bat so we’d have a weapon at home in case someone broke in, right? Guess who I just caught making out against a wall?” the tiny girl asked in a frenzy, not bothering to greet her friends.

“O, we’re kind of in the middle of some—“

“No, let her talk,” Clarke cut Raven off, interested in what the baby Blake had to say. “Who was it, Octavia?”

“Echo and Bellamy,” the girl announced dramatically. “Can you believe that? They broke up like a year ago or whatever!”

Raven shrugged. “Sometimes people just can’t stay away from each other because they’re so perfect together.” Then she turned to Clarke, “You hear that?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Do I like Lexa? Yes, a lot. But—“

“Oh my god, not that talk again,” Octavia groaned. “Dude, just make up your mind.”

Clarke knitted her eyebrows together. “It’s not that simple, O.”

“Yes it is Clarke!” Raven sided with her fellow brunette. “You like Lexa. Lexa likes you. You both like and have vaginas. Perfect match.”

“Lexa is in love with someone else.”

“Gosh, Clarke! I don’t even know anymore if you don’t see it because you’re blind or you deliberately keep your eyes shut!”

“Raven, I have seen everything there is to see.”

The brunette folded her arms across her chest with sceptical look. “Oh yeah? And what did you see?”

“The DVD. The talks about that girl. The poem,” Clarke counted them all on her fingers. “Want any more proof?”

“Yeah. Lexa actually saying it.”

“And she did say—“

“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE CLARKE!”

Both Raven and the blonde stared wide-eyed at Octavia, shocked at her scream and slightly afraid of the baseball bat she was waving around. The room fell silent.

Octavia was the one to break the silence. “You see me and Lincoln? You see Anya and Raven? Hell, you see Bellamy and Echo? They sorted their differences and made the impossible a certainty. Tell me you don’t see yourself and Lexa like that. Tell me you don’t think it’s possible.”

“Well, I—“

“Just tell me! Tell me that somewhere deep inside you don’t harbour the hope of something more.”

Clarke looked down, defeated by those questions. “I do.”

“Well then you better get off my couch and go tell her that or I’ll shove this bat so far up your ass that it will come out of your mouth.”

And as terrifying and deadly serious as the threat sounded, Clarke had to admit Octavia was right. It was time to take matters into her own hands, fight for her own happiness.

It was time to tell Lexa how she felt. The outcome be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TAN TAN TAN!!!
> 
> So what do you have to say, my dears? Leave your thoughts in the comment section o/
> 
> (as always, I'll proofread in the morning. damn timezones!)
> 
> (also, did you know this is exactly 6,000 words long?)
> 
> (oh and go and take a look at my Halloween fic, it's completely nuts)


	12. the storytellers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “His name was Jake,” Clarke murmured to the air, her words being taken by the light wind of the starry night.  
> “It’s a beautiful name,” Lexa muttered, her voice muffled by the locks of Clarke’s blonde hair.  
> The blue-eyed girl nodded wordlessly. Lexa always knew what to say.
> 
> or
> 
> Lexa struggles to make a decision and Clarke tells a story

“Well I can’t just go there and say ‘hey Lexa, I like you, what’s good?’”

“Uh, yes you can.”

“No, Raven. I can’t.”

The brunette sighed. “Okay, we’ll find you another way then.”

“Thanks. And what made you change your opinion about Lexa anyway?” Clarke asked, turning to Octavia.

The other girl sighed. “Look, I still don’t trust Lexa. But she makes you happy and that is all I want as your best friend.” She shrugged. “To see you happy.”

Clarke walked over to her friend and enveloped her in a hug. “I couldn’t ask for a better friend, O.”

Clarke could not ask Octavia to trust or like Lexa. That would come with time or not at all. Nonetheless, knowing that her friends had her back and wanted to see her happy in spite of their personal opinion of Lexa made her happier than she had words for.

“You’re forgetting the genius that will make it all possible.”

Clarke broke off the hug and turned to her other friend with a smirk. “I love you too, Raven.”

The mechanic rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, Griffin.”

“So what do you suggest we do, genius?”

“The oldest trick in the book. We go out together and leave you two idiots alone to sort your shit out.”

“You don’t need to be a genius to come up with that. Any normal person could.” Octavia quipped.

“Did you come up with it?”

The small brunette hesitated before answering, “No.”

“Then one either needs to be a genius or you’re dumber than a normal person,” Raven beamed.

“Clarke!” Octavia whined, turning to the blonde. “Raven is being an ass again!”

“No, I just beat you with logic.”

“Well I’ll beat you with violence!”

“Children, please stop,” Clarke begged, shaking her head reprovingly.

“It’s not my fault that I’m so much smarter than all of you,” Raven shrugged with a smirk. “And that I like teasing O because she’s so fickle.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like my fist in your face because you’re so feeble!”

Raven stood silent then, musing on her fellow brunette’s words.

“Okay. You win, O.”

The other girls’ jaws were on the floor. “Wait— what?” Octavia muttered, voicing Clarke’s thoughts as well.

Raven simply shrugged. “You won. I admit my defeat.” She then walked to the kitchen, with the other two in very shocked and confused tow, and opened the fridge door. “I believe the winner should now be awarded some kind of prize?”

Octavia grinned wildly and crossed her arms smugly. “Damn right, bitch!” Clarke raised her eyebrow; she knew Raven too well to be fooled.

“Good,” the mechanic nodded, grabbing an ice cream box and showing it to her friends. “Then you get the privilege of watching me and Clarke eat your favourite ice cream.”

Octavia’s eyes widened impossibly. “That’s not how it works!”

Clarke, on the other hand, laughed heartily and took the box from Raven’s hand, winking conspiratorially at her.

“I like this deal, Reyes. You are definitely a genius.”

 

****

 

Any scowled at her phone. _Not this again_ , Lexa could read in her expression over the book she was reading in their couch.

“Hey, nerd.” The brunette simply raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Raven just texted me, their lame little group is going out on Wednesday and the three stooges want us to go too.”

It was Lexa’s turn to scowl. “I don’t think—“

“Clarke specifically requested that you be there,” Anya added before Lexa could back out of it.

Lexa put the book down and reflected upon her options.

If she went, it would be yet another torturous night of watching Clarke, drinking her light till the last drop, without ever being able to touch her. Luna taking up all space in her head, reminding her of all the wrong she had done.

If she didn’t go, Clarke would probably take it personally and answer in kind. Retaliation would follow retaliation and in the end both would fall down a spiral of poor decisions and their friendship would suffer the consequences.

Maybe all of that was a bit too dramatic. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, Lexa was not ready to lose Clarke’s friendship. Not just yet.

Besides, she would only be socialising with Clarke. Within a group. Surrounded by other people. She didn’t even have to talk to the blonde that much. All she had to do was avoid any alone moments.

If only it were that easy.

“Alright,” she reluctantly relented, retrieving her book and returning to its pages. “I will go. But you cannot leave me alone with Clarke.”

Anya raised her palms to the sky in a pledge of innocence.

“I don’t even like the girl.”

“No, but she is Raven’s best friend,” Lexa noted. “And it’s exceedingly obvious that you are completely in love with Raven.”

The older girl gaped indignantly. “That is so not true.”

Lexa maintained a look of total disinterest, her eyes not leaving the book. “Yes it is, Anya. And for her you would even try to Clarke.”

“You know too well why I don’t like blondie, she—“

“I know,” Lexa yielded. “I also know Clarke will prove you wrong. And you are head over heels in love with Reyes.”

Anya huffed. “Yeah, right.” Some seconds of silence later, she tried her — or Raven’s, or Clarke’s — luck. “If Clarke liked you back, would you reject her?”

Lexa lifted her eyes from the book to bore them into Anya’s.

She sighed and closed the book.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” she confessed, the green in her eyes a little blue.

Her sister of the heart gave her a sad smile.

“You say I’m whipped, but you are so deep in love with this girl that a new word might have to be invented for what you feel.”

Lexa only averted her eyes to the floor.

There was no point in denying the truth. She was no longer colouring within the edges.

 

//

 

“Lexa, I’m actually trying to beat muscles here for a change. It would be easier if you woke the fuck up.”

Echo’s words brought her back to reality.

“I was distracted,” she explained apologetically.

“No kidding,” Echo mocked albeit slightly irritated. “I should have paired up with Bellamy.”

At that, the mop-haired boy looked up from the food he was cooking. “I’m a bit busy, babe.”

“And you’d probably do better than zombie Lexa over here,” Echo countered.

“Is Linc kicking your asses that much?” Bellamy laughed with a big smile.

“Tell me again why I let you bring them here with you?” Lexa growled, glaring at Lincoln.

The big guy shrugged. “I kind of need my girlfriend’s brother to like him.”

“Damn right you do!” Bell confirmed from the kitchen, knife pointed at Lincoln, a cocky smile in his lips.

 _So Octavia_ , Lexa thought — and she didn’t even know the girl well. The Blakes really had some annoying traits in common.

She didn’t particularly like Bellamy and yes, maybe that was partly — infinitesimally — due to the fact that he had slept with Clarke once. Even if the blonde had assured her time and again that she felt like vomiting every time that memory came back to her. Even if the blonde her had assured her time and again that Bellamy was nothing more than a big brother to her.

Whom she had slept with.

No matter how she chose to look at it, she still couldn’t bring herself to like Bellamy. Maybe she would one day. Not now.

Lexa locked her jaw. She had to listen to Clarke’s words. After all, the blonde had made it perfectly clear — various times and in very reassuring fashion — that there was absolutely nothing between her and Mopamy and she would rather die than have sex with him again.

So Lexa focused on those words.

She just hoped that Clarke wouldn’t rather die than have sex with her too.

“…Right, Lex?”

Echo’s voice startled her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Lexa, are you okay?” Echo asked her, concern in her voice and frown. “Are you even here to begin with?”

Lexa kept an unreadable expression.

“Yes, it’s just—“

“Okay, everyone that identifies as a male get out of here,” Echo commanded, cutting her off. “It’s time for Girl Talk.”

No. Not Girl Talk. Lexa hated Girl Talk.

Lincoln pouted. “What? But I’m one of the girls.”

“Whereas I like to believe I have a girl inside me,” Bellamy grinned from his spot behind the kitchen counter.

Echo snorted. “Yeah, that would explain a lot of things.”

“I’m quite feminine myself too,” Lincoln insisted. “I have two girls inside me.”

“Oh good, they’re twins!” Echo scoffed. “Now leave. Both of you.”

Groaning, the two men complied, heading to the bedrooms hall and leaving the two girls alone. Lexa felt like calling for them to come back.

Instead, Echo scooted closer to her. “So, Lexa. Are you going to spill the beans or what?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “There are no ‘beans’ to spill, Echo.”

“Yes there are and I’m guessing it has to do with a certain blonde.”

“Who? Anya?” Lexa feigned ignorance. “I hear she is quite happy with Raven, thank you for your concern.”

“The other blonde.”

“Clarke is perfectly fine.”

“Yeah I hear she is,” Echo teased. “Your eyes turn into crazy street lights when you see her.”

That earned her another eye roll. “If you are asking if I care about her… Yes. I generally do.” Echo snorted at Lexa’s word choice. “But that does not mean I will do something about it.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Gosh, it sounded so simple when spoken about by her friends.

But it was not. It was complicated. It really was.

Lexa swept a hand from the top down over her face. “One reason is that I fucked up with Luna by telling her not to go after Clarke and now she is mad at me and with reason because I was a hypocrite.”

“You were worried.”

“I was jealous.”

“And worried,” Echo insisted. “Lexa, Luna would never be happy with Clarke. You and me both know that. Luna knows that too. That’s why she broke it off with Clarke.”

“And why would I be happy with Clarke? What do I have that Luna does not?”

“For starters, that annoying shadiness that chicks seem to dig heaps.”

Lexa heaved an annoyed sigh. “Spare me the idiotic details, Echo.”

“Seriously though, it’s a shame that out-of-body experiences aren’t common because you should seriously see you two when you’re in the same room. It’s actually gross.”

Lexa’s eyebrow rose quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, there’s this… thing. Like the room temperature turns higher and it’s like we’re all gravitating around you two. And there’s sparks— I swear I can almost _see_ them sometimes. And you guys’ eyes, they do this stupid thing where they can’t keep away from each other. It’s quite disgusting, really,” Echo smirked. “But it’s sort of beautiful too.”

“I believe it’s called chemistry,” Lexa deadpanned. “So what if we have that? Doesn’t mean Clarke cares about me.”

“It’s not just chemistry, it’s freaking fireworks.” Lexa rolled her eyes at that. “Look, I know Clarke cares about you because there’s no way she can look at you like that and not feel something remotely romantic. Or sexual.”

“You all seem to know a lot but I see nothing. I betrayed Luna. End of discussion.”

Echo raised her hands in resignation, adorning the gesture with an eye roll. “Whatever, nerd. But you said that was _one_ reason. That means there are others.”

Lexa clenched her jaw. That was a slip she would not forgive herself so easily for.

“Yes, there is another,” she relented.

Echo’s lips widened in an annoying smirk. “Spill, Commander.”

Lexa breathed out, gathering the courage to talk about possibly her greatest issue about Clarke. It was nice talking to Echo. She wasn’t mad at her like Luna or too close to her like Anya. Or too close to Clarke like Raven. Or not close enough to either of them like Emori. It was nice.

“Liking me is a misfortune I would not wish on anyone,” she finally said. “Much less on Clarke. I am so… dark. Not in a stupid teen flick, bad girl way. I am also a screwed up mess.”

“If Clarke likes you, she will have seen it all already. And if she does like you still, it shows that she doesn’t mind.”

“But she’s so perfect and pure. I mean, she is not, not really, because she is human, but she also is,” Lexa explained, not entirely sure that she was managing to get her point across. Her gaze was burning against her palms, as if its intensity and her deep frown would help her communicate her feelings. “Everything I touch always gets ruined. And Clarke is so… Clarke. She is everything. And I cannot stand the mere thought of ruining her too. She is a perfect linen white dress and I am the coal-covered hands waiting to stain it and ruin it forever. I know I will if I let myself get too close.”

“That was almost too deep.”

“I am serious, Echo.”

“Maybe she doesn’t care about that. Maybe she only cares about you.”

“Except she doesn’t.”

Echo groaned exasperatedly.

“I give up. Just do me a favour: don’t throw a chance at happiness away because of your insecurities.”

Insecurities? What insecurities? Lexa was not insecure.

“They are not—“

“I have an idea,” Echo grinned. “Anya told me we’re all going out tomorrow so here’s what you have to do: get Clarke alone. Tel her how you feel. I’ll bet you she feels the same way.”

Lexa’s stare met her friend’s. “That does not seem too hard a bet to win.”

“Good, it’s a deal. But if I win, you’ll have to do my grocery shopping for two weeks,” Echo smirked impossibly. “With your money.”

Lexa stood up, that was absurd. “I do not need a bet to validate my awareness of how one of my closest friends feels about me.”

“Maybe you do. Besides, I need to spend less money and time getting my groceries.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and extended her hand for Echo to take. “Alright, it’s a bet. Which I will win. And then you will have to my laundry _and_ Anya’s for two weeks.”

Echo huffed. “You are so going to lose this.”

It was easy now. If Clarke liked her back, Lexa would pursue a relationship. She couldn’t _not_.

However, if the blonde had no interest in her like that, she would comply with Luna’s wishes and stay away from the girl.

She only had to get close enough to Clarke to then get her alone and proceed to tell her how she felt. If only it were that easy.

 

****

 

For some crazy reason, someone had let Jasper choose the place.

To say it had been a success was a gross understatement.

Against Clarke’s expectations, the disco was great. It was decorated like a jungle and the speakers were blasting hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. The environment was amazing too.

“How?” Octavia asked, Raven and Clarke on either side of her. “How did you actually choose well, Jasper?”

The boy put his arms around all three girls and Monty’s shoulders, smiling widely. “I am a man of many talents.”

“Shut up or you might lose the credit you just won,” Raven warned, making him recoil his arms immediately.

“I always tell you not to mess with Raven, dude.”

Jasper turned to Monty with an indignant expression. “And I always tell you not to say those things in front of them!”

The three girls laughed and took off into the heart of the disco.

They were quick to find the bar and once each had a drink in hand, it took them no time to find the table Lexa, Anya, Ryder, Lincoln, Emori, Caris, Echo, and Bellamy were sitting at.

As soon as Clarke got close enough, Lexa’s eyes rose from her drink and found the blonde’s.

Clarke almost sighed, that intense green greeting her with a smile not of the lips, but of the eyes.

The table was quite big, with a couch and a single seat with space for up to eight people in total. Octavia quickly took Lincoln’s arm and led him to the dance floor, where ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’ was playing happily. Anya and Raven squeezed together in a space for one, whereas Echo had her left leg over Bellamy’s right, doing little to save space. Ryder and Emori, with Caris on their laps, were comfortably sitting between Anya and Echo. Lexa had the single seat, which with its back and armrests looked like a throne, and seemed to be perfectly content with it. Jasper and Monty quickly sat down and took the only two spaces on the couch, leaving Clarke stood up and looking lost.

A glance over at Lexa, who was staring expectantly at her, was enough to make up her mind. She strode over to the single seat and sat on Lexa’s legs without even asking her if it was okay.

The brunette voiced no complaint and even relaxed, so Clarke supposed she had nothing against it. Even so, after putting her drink down on the table, she turned her head back to Lexa just to be sure and was met by smiling eyes.

Clarke responded with a dazzling grin and even got a small smile out of Lexa’s lips. Those green eyes were entirely focused on her blue ones, getting lost in the deep ocean without ever asking to be rescued.

In the background, a conversation Clarke had little interest in. She noticed with a frown that Lexa didn’t have a drink on the table in front of her. “Where’s your drink?”

Lexa shrugged. “I do not need one.”

“Well, you can drink from mine.”

The brunette frowned. “That’s your drink, Clarke. You paid for it.”

It was Clarke’s turn to shrug but she did so with a smile. “I don’t mind sharing. Not with you.”

The corners of Lexa’s lips ticked up a bit. “I don’t mind sharing with you either, Clarke.”

That prompted Clarke to pick up her glass from the table and bring it up to her lips, taking a maybe too large gulp. She was going to need the liquid courage.

Then she turned around and sat sideways on Lexa’s lap, bringing the glass to the brunette’s lips.

Naturally, Lexa was not expecting it so she didn’t have her mouth open and ready when the glass tipped over and the drink started flowing down over the rim.

The vodka spilled onto Lexa’s black top, making her jump at how cold it was.

“Shit! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Clarke exclaimed, cursing herself for being an idiotic klutz and trying to smooth the wet and crinkling textile over Lexa’s breasts, now fully turned to her.

By then, everyone was admiring the scene that was Clarke straddling, and basically palming the breasts of a very, very red Lexa.

“Clarke, it’s alright,” the brunette tried, patting the blonde’s hands away. “I can do this, just— please stop touching me.”

Clarke stood up right away, the colour on her face now matching Lexa’s. She muttered an apology and let Lexa get off the seat.

The brunette smiled, third time that night. “Do not worry.”

Lexa walked away, leaving Clarke to plop down at the seat.

“Psst, Griffin.”

Clarke turned her head to Raven, who was sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to her. “What do you want?” the blonde breathed out in an aggravated tone. “I’m an idiot, I know that.”

Raven smiled widely. “That’s not what I was going to say. Besides, did you see Lexa’s face? She was red like a tomato. I would say that little incident worked in your favour.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, I was right about the eye fucking,” Raven said in a lower voice and leaned closer to her friend.

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up.

“What are you even talking about?”

“You know, that thing where you’re both shamelessly staring and one is undressing the other while being backed up against a table and then the two of you have hot eye sex.”

Clarke answered with an eye roll. “Oh shut up, Raven,” she chided. “We don’t do that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” the mechanic finished off with a wink.

Clarke shook her head mentally. Her friend was so ridiculous. Backing Lexa up against a table would take much more than sensually batting her eyelashes.

Wait. It was her doing that, right?

Clarke guessed it wouldn’t hurt to ask. She chanced a glance back at Raven, who was still observing her with a shit-eating grin.

“Out of pure scientific curiosity,” Clarke started with as much a noncommittal tone as she could convey, “who backs who up against a table?”

“You. Back her.”

Clarke allowed herself to let out a self-satisfied smile that did not go unnoticed by Raven.

“But she undresses you,” the mechanic added with a smirk. That earned her a glare from Clarke. “And now you even go as far as sexually harassing her.”

The blonde indignantly opened her mouth and closed it again, out of smart rebuttals.

She finally sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what would be worse, her not liking me back or having liked me all this time and not told me a word about it.”

Raven chuckled. “You really don’t give the girl a way out, do you?”

The blonde could not answer, however, because Lexa was arriving and she had to stand up to let the brunette take her seat back.

“It’s alright, Clarke,” Lexa said, inviting her to sit down instead.

“No,” the blonde insisted. “You were here before me, besides I made the mess that made you leave in the first place and probably ruin your top.”

“It’s transparent on black, Clarke. It is not ruined.”

“Still your seat.”

Lexa heaved a frustrated sigh, a sign of defeat, and sat down on the single seat. Clarke took her place on the brunette’s lap without hesitation.

This time, nevertheless, and perhaps afraid that the blonde would pull another ‘trick’ on her, Lexa took Clarke’s hand and intertwined their fingers together. The artist couldn’t help the contented sigh that left her lips.

 

****

 

“What made you change your opinion of Lexa?”

They were sitting on a loveseat by the edge of the dance floor.

“It didn’t change,” Octavia answered perhaps a little too harshly. “But she’s your best friend so I guess she can’t be all that bad,” she added with a smirk and a softer voice.

Lincoln shook his head with amusement. “You always have a snarky comment up your sleeve, Octavia Blake.”

Octavia sighed with concern. “It’s just— Clarke’s life has been so full of disappointments. It’s hard to look at Lexa and not see yet another one waiting to happen.”

Lincoln nodded, “I see. But Lexa really means the best with Clarke.”

“I’m just trying to protect her, Linc.”

The burly man almost melted at the plea for understanding in his girlfriend’s eyes. “I know, Octavia,” he reassured, wrapping her in a hug. “And it’s one of the things I love about you the most.”

“Thanks.” It was just a sigh but Lincoln would always hear Octavia’s voice even if it were a mere whisper in the middle of a live concert.

“Skipping to a brighter topic,” he started with a warm smile and clutching the little piece of metal in his hand. “How would you feel about moving in? You practically spend every day and night at mine so why not make it official?”

If the squeak was any indication, Octavia was happy. The way she jumped to his arms, hugging him tightly and almost breaking his neck in the process, left no room for doubt. The kisses peppered all over his face, interrupted by candid I love you’s, were a welcome bonus.

Lincoln let a pleased smile spread across his features. His hand opened to reveal a key, which the girl took enthusiastically.

Lincoln loved Octavia so much he barely had words for it.

 

****

 

At some point, Anya and Raven decided to find their own table and talk over glasses of whiskey, fingers interlaced and legs tangled together.

Anya wasn’t particularly fond of people. They cried, yelled, talked, cheated, took advantage, deceived, stole, ruined, laughed too loud, smiled too bright, walked like mildly evolved penguins, breathed, snored, ate too much or too little, burped and puked, and generally just— existed. Some people were truly a waste of breathing air in Anya’s opinion.

However, for the second time in her life, Anya had found someone beside her family that she really cared about.

Raven wasn’t perfect. Yes, she was awfully smart and stunning and amazingly talented at practically everything she did, but somehow none of that was menacing. Not even the fact that she was two years younger than Anya and finishing her fourth or fifth major and Anya was still finishing her first. Not even the fact that she was so ahead and Anya was so behind. She despised herself for the sappiness of it, but the truth was that none of that mattered when they were together.

Of course the fact that Raven was smart and beautiful played a role in the relationship. Anya being clever and attractive as well helped, too. Nevertheless, what really knitted them together was how connected they were to each other, how well they could read and see into each other’s (Anya decided to ignore how sentimental this was again) souls.

They were kindred spirits.

Both had suffered so much and yet had found some solace in each other’s arms. Neither was too fond of the expression of emotions. Neither was too fond of showing _weakness_.

In spite of everything, Anya felt that bond. Like a string was chaining their hearts together. With Raven, she had had no problem saying, "I like you. A lot. Maybe more than I should for my own sake." With Raven, she had had no problem shedding a tear when the brunette had found the pictures and the notebook neatly stacked within the depths of the wooden box under her bed. More important even, with Raven she had not felt pressured to tell the story. Raven had just nodded and understood. There were stories the mechanic wasn’t ready to share either.

Maybe one day. Not yet.

And now, with Raven, she finally felt ready to slay one of her ghosts. To let the mask fall a bit and reveal the monster lying beneath. To let the girl she cared so much about — maybe too much — see how horrible she truly was. No longer the beauty; just the beast.

For she knew that with Raven, she would not be met with judgement. Only understanding. For she knew that Raven was exactly the same.

Still, the words were trying at her lips.

She cleared her throat, her usual bluntness gone somehow. “I want to tell you the story of the picture you found.”

On second thought, the bluntness was still very much there.

Raven quirked an eyebrow and looked at her with careful curiosity.

“I told you at the time that Lexa had saved my ass by putting herself on the line,” Anya started. “And that it had to do with that picture.” Raven nodded, encouraging her to continue. “Her name is Elise and she’s the biggest bitch I’ve ever known. Of course, at the time I was madly in love with her. But that’s how every love story gone wrong begins, isn’t it?”

 

****

 

_It was just another day at the office. Except that the midnight streets weren’t an office and this wasn’t yet another stupid boring job._

_Anya wasn’t stupid. She was methodical. Had a talent for numbers and accountability, so she kept it all neatly organised and everything she did always found its way to the little notebook she hid under her bed._

_It was pink, so unlike her, but it reminded her of a life she would never have. One where she would have money and love and be happy. People always associate pink with those things, right?_

_Anya supposed so and that was why, as ironic as it sounded, every transaction was cautiously translated into paper, her neat handwriting giving shape to every name and number. It was risky, yes. Still, she could not imagine herself doing it any other way._

_Her story was one that had been told by many lips and scripts, she was sure. Her motivation had one too many Shakespearean odes written in its honour._

_Love is such a dull and exciting thing. It’s dull because honestly, it’s the same_ every time _. It’s not like people even try to change the plot._

_But at the same time, it’s like finding yourself suddenly in the eye of the storm, twirling along with the typhoon and feeling utterly helpless about it all._

_It’s ridiculous, really, how little of a say you actually have when it comes to falling in love._

_She was blonde, the sun shining in her hair and a dozen other clichés already applied to a million other blondes. Her eyes were blue, because of fucking course they were. She was a Disney princess, after all. It was only fitting with her social status._

_It started like every story of this kind starts. A beautiful rich girl smiles at you. You smile ever so slightly back and all of a sudden she’s all pink cheeks and loose blonde locks being tucked behind exquisitely sculpted ears and you can barely believe your luck._

_That should’ve been a red flag, Anya knew that, but God, was the girl ravishingly alluring. A couple shy smiles and nervous chuckles later, Anya had her name and her number along with a skin-burning kiss on her cheek._

_Elise Marie. The name of virgins and queens. How accurate. Or maybe not._

_The meetings had been passionate and frequent, Anya drinking in as much of the seemingly unattainable girl as she could before she inevitably got snatched away from her powerless fingers. Again, that should have been warning enough._

_But how could Anya have seen the writing on the wall when she was so madly, blindly, hopelessly in love with her?_

_It had started out as a shy and embarrassed request. Just pass it on, take the money, and give it to the love of your life. So simple. So one-time only, Elise had promised._

_But once a predator has had a whiff of its prey, the chase never stops, does it?_

_It had not been a one-time thing. At first, Elise would come crying to Anya’s lap, eyes tearing over cruel people that would do cruel things to her if she didn’t comply. Anya had been so taken by the girl’s honesty and the fact that she had come to_ her _, not her brother or her friends or anyone else; Elise had trusted_ her.

_Her experience had grown with every new transaction. Elise’s initial crying spectacles had diminished, as Anya had become, step by step, a part of the network. She no longer dealt with Elise, doing business with a man called Cage Wallace and his associate Emerson instead. They were shady and bad people, she knew that, but money and especially her relationship made her close her eyes and forget the world she was wandering through._

_There were moments when Anya would doubt and try to walk away, but Elise’s love, those eyes and those lips and those fingers, would always lure her back like a never failing spell._

_At some point, Anya alone had stopped being enough._

_It had been one year into her relationship with Elise. She had finished high school and college awaited her, but Anya had announced to Indra that she wanted to work and raise her own money before heading to college. The older woman had nodded her acquiescence and Anya had been teaching at the gym by day, doing business in the streets by night._

_Just like a vigilante, only she was destroying the city instead of rebuilding it._

_There had been two girls in Anya’s school that always seemed miserable. Elise had told her that was the perfect prey and Anya hadn’t been able to shake the ominous feeling that came with those words. Had she been the perfect prey too?_

_It had been so easy to include them in the business. The promise of liberation, of a group of friends, of being_ cool. _In less then a month, both girls had become addicts craving the scarce money Anya would give them for their colossal efforts._

_Anya had always kept her hands and other body parts off the product. She was there to make money and above all please Elise. She was her sun. Anya was cautious and methodical, almost clinical._

_It was all for Elise._

_Anya cared about Echo. She was one of her sisters. She cared about Lexa too, even more than she did the other girl, and maybe that was why she had never let herself consider the possibility of including the brunette in her business._

_It was by the second year, after Anya had recruited Echo (keeping her off the product unlike what she had done with the other two girls), that Lexa, always the bright kid, caught on._

_One could say that two years was not a sign of intelligence. Anya, nonetheless, knew it was. She had always been careful to cover her every track. After being joined by Echo, they always said they were going out or to a common friend’s house and everyone believed them. Everyone but Lexa._

_“Anya, you have to stop this,” the younger girl had demanded, command so present in her jovial voice. “It’s dangerous and irresponsible and a fucking snowball. And now you have dragged Echo into it.”_

_Anya had crossed her arms, unwilling to agree with her sister. “Echo is an adult like me, she can make her own decisions,” she had huffed out._

_“It’s all Elise’s fault. She’s using you.”_

_The accusation had awakened a nasty side of her. “Oh fuck off, Lexa. Just worry about Costia.”_

_“What about Costia?”_

_Anya had smirked at the alarm in Lexa’s voice. “Haven’t you noticed her weird behaviour lately?” She had wanted it to sting and sting it did with her following words: “I bet she’s fucking someone else behind your back.”_

_Lexa had gone red at the insinuation. “Costia would never do that! She would never cheat on me!”_

_From that moment on, Anya had an out every time Lexa even tried to bring that debate up again._

_With Echo and two other girls as her responsibility, Anya knew she had to be extra careful._

_Elise was her rock though, holding her together, keeping the water from spilling through the cracks. Every time she pondered stepping away, Elise convinced her to stay._

_The girl’s parents, the mayor and his impeccable trophy wife, had no idea of the existence of Anya. Elise had managed to keep her a secret for almost three years and while she liked the thrill of hiding around and having clandestine sex, Anya was ready to take the next step._

_It was just another day at the office. Except that the midnight streets weren’t an office and this wasn’t yet another stupid boring job._

_Anya had been doing that job for around two years and a half. She had a Polis University acceptance letter on her desk and a ring in her pocket eager to be laced around a finger._

_She had great plans. Marry Elise, leave that job, go to college, get a great job, have children and a dog, be happy. Or whatever lame stuff people did when they had the perfect family with the perfect wife._

_That day, it was just Anya, Echo and the two girls whose ruin she had brought upon but was fighting to remain blind to._

_It should have been just another night in the streets. She had the powder and the client had the money. He wanted a large amount but she just supposed he was one of those guys that go home and overdose on it. Honestly, she kind of wished they were all like that, so their misery would end fast._

_The worst clients were those that looked like the weight of a thousand lives could only be lifted by a desperate sniff. Those with such deep, dark rings below their eyes that their crumpled smile seemed weighed down by the falling skin. Those were the ones that made her truly hate herself._

_Except this wasn’t a client after all._

_The moment she handed him the little bag, a gun was pointed at her head and a badge flashed before her eyes. Of course. She should have foreseen that her luck was about to end._

_Isn’t that how tragic stories go after all? The ladder is swept from under your feet and you come crashing down just as you’re about to touch the stars._

_After less than six hours, Anya was sitting in a room, handcuffs bruising her wrists, a metal table under her hands, an uncomfortable chair giving her support and a cop talking to her about deals and rattling people out and whatnot._

_“Where is my sister?” That was all Anya wanted to know. “And the other girls.”_

_She was a Woods. She lived for her family. Or at least she should have. Getting her sister involved in her business had been anything but._

_The cop turned to her, eyes expressing his understanding. “Your sister is Miss Echo, right?”_

_“Shouldn’t you know that already? It’s a simple one plus one, really. Same surname, doing the same job, I’m asking about her, she’s probably asking about me… Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”_

_“You two are quite different,” the cop explained, perhaps more in his words than a shallow analysis would let on._

_“Adopted.”_

_“Since birth?”_

_“Again: shouldn’t you know that already?”_

_The cop sat down on the chair across her. “Enlighten me.”_

_“How about no?” she retorted with a tight-lipped smile._

_The cop shrugged. “You might change your mind later.”_

_She would have crossed her arms if it wasn’t for the cuffs. “Doubt that.”_

_The cop smiled genuinely. “You know what? You don’t need that restraining you, let’s get those off.”_

_He took a key out of his pocket and worked inside the handcuffs, freeing her of them some seconds later._

_Anya brought her hands to her wrists, massaging them and enjoying this newfound freedom. The cop smiled and extended his hand. “My name is Gustus.”_

_She looked down at the hand, her arms now folded across her chest. After more than a few awkward seconds, Gusts finally gave up and withdrew the handshake offer._

_“I am here to help you, Anya.”_

_“Good. Then help me. Let me go.”_

_“You were caught selling heroin.”_

_“Your colleague bought it from me, isn’t that a crime too?”_

_“You know as well as I do that he was undercover.”_

_Anya shrugged nonchalantly. “For all I care, he could have been painted green and dancing the hula. Just let me go.”_

_“I am willing to do just that.” Anya’s eyes shined for a moment before knowing there had to be a deal beneath such generosity. “You’re not an addict, you seem to be doing this for the money. We did check your background, Anya. I can let you and your sister go. All you have to do is give me the names of your suppliers.”_

_Anya scoffed. “One, as if it were that simple. Two, you think I have a death wish or something? Three. Can I make a call?”_

_“Is there someone special you would like to reach out to?”_

_“Yeah. Your momma.”_

_Gustus allowed himself an eye roll. “I’m serious, Anya. I want to help you.”_

_“So am I. Now can I make a call?”_

_“Who are you going to call?”_

_“The ghostbusters.”_

_Gustus heaved a sigh. “I should have seen that coming.” Then his stance got more serious again. “You can try and push me away all you want, Anya, but I know you’re a good person.”_

_“How? Do I have a stamp on my forehead? Do I have that tattooed across my face?”_

_“Your first concern was your sister. Your second concern was the other girls. Only then did you think about yourself and that was when I suggested that you give me the names of your suppliers.”_

_“So what?”_

_“So I think that you are a good person.”_

_Anya shrugged, trying not to let that affect her. “Whatever you say, Gustus.”_

_There was a pause that seemed to take forever._

_“Your mother works a lot on her gym,” Gustus started calmly, earning her undivided attention. “Your brother Lincoln will finish high school in six months. Echo was studying for her admission exam. Luna and Emori are a year younger than Lincoln, and Caris is a high school freshman.”_

_“What about them?”_

_“Alexandria… She likes being called Lexa… She took a gap year after high school to save money for college. She’s a smart girl. You all know she will fly high. Political Science is what she has applied for and she just got her acceptance letter.”_

_Anya chuckled dryly. “You guys do your research. And here I was thinking you were just a bunch of useless gorillas.”_

_“Point being, I_ know _you, Anya. I know something strong must have motivated you into getting involved in this. You are not one to voluntarily bring harm to other people.”_

_“Or maybe you’re wrong and I’m just a horrible person.”_

_“Doubt that.”_

_She had mimicked him before; it had been his turn now. It was a game, Anya knew that, and she was the best at playing games. Everything could be reduced to a mathematical formula; even the thoughts running around people’s minds._

_“Can I make my call?”_

_Gustus sighed. “Yes.”_

_//_

_“Who is this?”_

_“Elise. It’s me, Anya. The cops got me and Echo and the girls.”_

_“I think you called the wrong number.”_

_“What? No, I’m calling you from the station because the cops arrested me Elise, and I need you to—”_

_“Excuse me, who am I talking to again?”_

_“Anya. It’s Anya.”_

_“I’m sorry, I don’t know an Anya.”_

_“What the fuck?”_

_“You must have called the wrong Elise.”_

_“What the fuck.”_

_“Have a good night, miss.”_

_“Elise, wait!”_

_“————“_

_//_

_“She is my girlfriend.”_

_“Elise von Droßdik. The mayor’s daughter? Your girlfriend?”_

_“You don’t have to believe me. Just get her here and you’ll know.”_

_Gustus fell silent, perhaps musing on his options. “And you’re saying she_ knew _what you were doing but had no part in it?”_

_Anya hesitated before answering, “Yes.”_

_“So you admit to having taken part in drug selling.”_

_“You pretty much caught me red-handed, what do you want me to say? That your whole department is dreaming of Anya’s and unicorns?”_

_He nodded and left the room._

_//_

_Elise looked Anya in the eye. “I don’t know her.”_

_//_

_“I believe in you.”_

_Anya looked up at Gustus, stoic mask fallen, a sincere smile on her lips. For some reason, those words meant the world to her._

_“I want to see Lexa.”_

_“Your sister?”_

_“My best friend.”_

_//_

_“I can’t tell them anything, Lexa. I convinced them to let Echo go and let all blame fall on me. But you know I can’t say anything.”_

_The brunette was pacing around the room, desperate, angry, determined._

_“I will find a way to get you out of here.”_

_Anya smiled ruefully. “There is none.”_

_//_

_Four days later, Anya saw the sun again._

_When she looked at Lexa, waiting for her outside the station, cool, composed and with a rigidness to her bearing, Anya knew her freedom had been the brunette’s doing._

_“What did you do?”_

_Her sister gave her no answer._

_A dozen feet later, Anya grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Lexa, what did you do?”_

_She was met with an ice-cold stare, green eyes looking down at her._

_“Know that you are forgiven, Anya. But punishment was due.”_

_The blonde frowned. “What do you mean?”_

_“Your record is clean, so is Echo’s. Your money is intact though we had to pay for the two girls’ rehab. You can go to college and live your life like this never happened. Except that the ghost of it will haunt you forever.”_

_“I don’t care about ghosts, just tell me what you did.”_

_“That is to be your ghost, Anya. You will never know what I did.”_

_From that moment on, hierarchy shifted even if that change was never spoken of. Lexa had warned her, had advised her and had ultimately saved her._

_Lexa was now the undisputed leader._

_When Anya entered her room, the engagement ring was gone._

****

 

“What did she do?”

“I still don’t know for sure,” Anya shrugged. “I can imagine that Lexa sold the ring to buy for the girls’ rehab. And considering that some months later Cage Wallace and Carl Emerson were being sued for drug-related crimes, I can imagine she found a way to denounce them. Additionally, the Mayor resigned and his family moved out of town. And I suppose Gustus helped Lexa with it all since he’s now practically part of the family.”

“You were brave, Anya.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “Brave? Must I remind you that because of a girl, I dragged my own sister down with me? I was supposed to protect them, not put them in danger.”

“You were blind,” Raven replied very seriously. “But even then, like Gustus said, your priority was everyone else.”

“I still did what I did, Raven.”

All the brunette could do to try and make her girlfriend not feel like such a monster was hug her — and hug her she did.

Anya was surprised at first, muscles tense for a fraction of a second, but after that her body relaxed and the blonde wrapped her arms around Raven, returning the embrace. It was surrender, acceptance not only of another point of view but also of the whole situation. Anya was finally ready to forgive herself.

That when the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. Privileged, rich, daughter of the mayor, blonde, blue eyes, enamouring someone of lower social and financial status. Raven finally understood Anya’s attitude in the past couple of months.

She leaned back, breaking off the hug just slightly, and gazed into Anya’s brown hard and soft eyes. “Clarke is not Elise.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you behave like she is?”

“Because I can’t help looking at Clarke and seeing her.” The woman shook her head, clearly frustrated at her own inability to differentiate those situations. “I know they are not the same person, but I need some kind of proof that Clarke won’t break Lexa’s heart and walk away. I need to see it.”

“Clarke might make a lot of mistakes, but she does the best she can. She’s a genuinely good person,” Raven assured. “Still, no one can guarantee that Clarke will never break Lexa’s heart or vice-versa.”

That got a smirk out of Anya. “I know, sass brat.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, cheekbones.”

 

****

 

“I Love Rock’n’Roll” was playing quite loud, muffling every sound that came out of their mouths. Their frustration must have been evident, because after some minutes Jasper approached them with advice.

“If you need to actually hear each other, I recommend the roof,” he said, pointing at an inconspicuous door. “It leads up to the roof. No one ever goes there.”

It took only a glance for Clarke to know that Lexa was on board with that plan.

About two minutes later, they were sitting on the edge of the roof, just as they had done a week earlier at the brunette’s tournament.

They were holding hands, something so easy and that came so naturally to them by now. Clarke loved the feeling of Lexa’s hand in hers, their fingers brushing idly and the warmth bringing them closer together. It wasn’t romantic — or maybe it was and they were just trying to fool themselves.

“The disco is cool, but this,” Clarke said as she motioned to the city lights in front of them, “this is something else.”

“That’s the thing about lovely things. All the noise in the world can’t deafen their beauty.”

Clarke smirked. “You’re such a poet, Alexandria Woods.” Lexa rolled her eyes and the blonde felt encouraged to continue her teasing. “Tell me, what do you find most beautiful about this scenic view?”

The brunette turned her full attention to Clarke, the intensity of green eyes tapping into blue.

“You.”

Clarke grinned, powerless against the feelings that threatened to make her heart jump out of her chest. “You’re not so bad to look at yourself.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Lexa deadpanned and this time Clarke couldn’t contain her laughter.

“How are you becoming one of my best friends so quickly?” the blonde asked after some seconds of thought.

Lexa raised a playful eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing, Clarke. You came into my life and turned it upside down.”

“I’m a hurricane.”

“Very much so. Though one that rejuvenates instead of creating havoc.”

Clarke would take that definition any day. She planted a kiss to the side of Lexa’s chin and nuzzled her nose into her cheek, drawing a soft chuckle and a smile out of the brunette’s lips.

As they fell into comfortable silence, the blonde considered how far they had gone since meeting at that dreadful party.

Clarke had hated Lexa at first, her competitive streak getting in the way of knowing of the best people she had ever met. If only she had relented sooner. She had to remember to thank Jaha for this opportunity.

The two had quickly become friends and overcome all sourness between them. Friendship had become a crush and that crush had developed into something real, palpable and beautiful. Now Lexa was one of the most important people in Clarke’s life.

That reminded her of what day it was and suddenly the stars were not shining and most of her cheerfulness faded away. She both loved and hated the next day, when every corner of every street seemed to turn into black and black, her fingers stretching out to try and feel the walls but failing every time Clarke walked against them. And again. And again. And again.

This time though, it didn’t hurt as much. The same thing happened every passing year and maybe one day that pain would be reduced to a gentle tug at her heart, a sweet nostalgia that reminded her of all the wonderful people she had waiting for her on the other side.

Maybe one day she could draw a smile in place of a shedding tear.

“Tomorrow would be my father’s birthday.”

Lexa turned to her, a kindness in her eyes that made Clarke feel even stronger than she usually was. Lexa cared about her, in whatever way she did, and that was comfort enough.

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

The blonde shook her head. “Don’t be, it was a long time ago. Still hurts, but seldom in a bad way.”

“You are so strong.”

The blonde chuckled dryly. “I couldn’t save him. I was his only hope and I couldn’t save him.” She tried fighting back the tears, but they were stronger than her. “I don’t see how that makes me anything other than weak.”

“Failure is not a sign of weakness, Clarke.”

“He had had a horrible accident and needed blood. He was AB negative, the rarest blood type there is, and it so happened that I was too.” Telling that story was like opening a closed wound, but Clarke needed Lexa to know about it. “His body had rejected another donor’s blood already so his slim chances of survival were down to me.” Lexa squeezed her hand, giving her the encouragement needed to continue. “I made a direct blood donation. His body seemed to be accepting the blood at first, but some time later it started reacting badly. Not even two hours after that, he passed away.” Tears finally dared stream down her cheeks, making her voice tremble. Lexa rested the blonde head on the front of her shoulder and Clarke let herself relive the feelings of that day for the first time in years. “We were so confident that he would survive… I didn’t even get to say goodbye, Lexa. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The brunette could do nothing but stroke her blonde hair gently, dropping soothing kisses on the crown of her head.

“His name was Jake,” Clarke murmured to the air, her words being taken by the light wind of the starry night.

“It’s a beautiful name,” Lexa muttered, her voice muffled by the locks of Clarke’s blonde hair.

The blue-eyed girl nodded wordlessly. Lexa always knew what to say.

A wave of guilt washed over her once again and tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. The constant overbearing feeling that crept over her shoulder every minute of every day susurrated disdainful accusations into her ears and she had no trouble believing them.

“My blood was— it wasn’t good enough,” Clarke wept. “My father is dead because my blood wasn’t good enough.”

“You cannot blame yourself, Clarke,” Lexa whispered, her voice soft and mollifying. “Please don’t feel guilty. There is literally nothing you could have done.”

Clarke lifted her head off Lexa’s shoulder to stare into the brunette’s eyes, childish hope pooling at her own. “You really think so?”

Those forest green orbs shone with an earnest glint, so calm that Clarke herself be taken by peacefulness just by looking into them. “I am sure of it.”

And said by Lexa’s full, pink, honest lips, it sounded a bit truer than the thousand times she had heard it from everyone else.

Clarke felt herself lean in, eyes flickering between the jade of Lexa’s eyes and the plumpness of her lips.

She saw the brunette gulp and knew she was leaning in too, their faces coming closer with each passing second, tongues darting out to moisturise dry lips.

There was wonder and affection and hope in Lexa’s gaze and her breath, now caressing the tip of Clarke’s nose, was warm and pleasant and spread goose bumps all over the blonde’s skin.

She could almost feel those full lips graze her own, could definitely feel those fingers trace her jaw and cheek, already imagined those eyes closing at the first touch.

Lexa’s hand cupped her cheek and pulled her in, hoping to close the distance between them. Clarke closed her eyes and felt the lightest hint of a lip coming to rest on her own.

Clarke pulled away quite brusquely, Lexa’s daze taking a little longer to vanish. The brunette’s features were unreadable, except for her eyes, from which hurt was dripping like sunburnt tears.

Clarke sighed, averting her eyes from Lexa’s wounded gaze. “I want to kiss you so fucking much.” The brunette raised an incredulous eyebrow. Sighing again and with her eyes closed for courage, Clarke went on, “I like the way you braid your hair. I also really like your humour? How it’s not funny at all but I always laugh because I just love the sound of your voice. And I like— I _love_ how you say my name. You make it sound so special, like I’m hearing it for the first time each time you say it. So that makes for five things I like about you.”

“Clarke?”

The blonde stood up, unable to do this while sitting. Lexa did so too and the two women stood in front of each other, one flustered and hurt and the other hurt and expectant.

“Some bits of that night have been coming back to me. Little things. Not as much as I’d like to remember. So as you can see, I really fucking want to kiss you,” Clarke confessed. “When I’m with you, all of my self-control goes out the window. But I want so much more than just kissing or what I’ve been doing with other people because I actually like you, Lexa, and I know things will never go there because you’re in love with someone else; and I don’t want to be a mere pastime, the one that fills the void, the fun fling just waiting to be left behind, alone and heartbroken, the moment you get the girl you really want.”

“It’s you.”

“What?”

Lexa bobbed her head marginally, an earnest expression on her face. She took Clarke’s hands in hers, caressing them tenderly. The blonde tried to capture green eyes in an attempt to understand what was being said.

“It’s you, Clarke.” The brightest of smiles coloured the brunette’s face. “The girl I really want is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAPPENED :O
> 
> I really loved writing Anya's part, hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Also, stupid fact: this has been written since yesterday but I had no time to post it till now.
> 
> As always, I'll proofread in the morning x)


	13. the inevitable

**21 October 2015**

**Day 0, 11:01 pm**

 

Literally, Lexa was on top of a building. Figuratively though, she was on top of the world.

Clarke liked her.

Clarke Griffin liked her.

Clarke fucking Griffin liked her.

Clarke liked _her_.

Lexa Woods.

Lexa fucking Woods.

No, but wait: _Clarke Griffin_ _likes me._

Clarke. Her Clarke. The woman Lexa had crushing on for at least half a year (she would never admit this to herself, but it was actually one year and a half, since the moment she had first laid eyes on Clarke about 18 months ago in their first ever joint class).

 

Clarke Griffin liked Lexa Woods.

 

And Lexa Woods had probably never been so happy.

 

“It’s me?” Clarke asked disbelievingly, pulling her out of her trance. “You like _me_?”

Lexa nodded emphatically, her lips torn in an ecstatic smile. “It’s always been you, Clarke.”

The blonde frowned, definitely not the reaction Lexa was expecting.

“So,” Clarke commenced, an edge to her voice, taking slow steps towards Lexa. “All this time, you liked me?”

The brunette had no choice but to step backwards before the blonde’s advances. She gulped. “Yes… Clarke.”

“All this time. You liked me and never said a word and let me act like an idiot?”

“Well yes, but—“

“Fuck you, Lexa!”

The brunette frowned, her eyes wide in shock. “But Clarke—“

“No, fuck you!” Clarke exclaimed, pushing Lexa out of the way. “You’re such a fucking coward, I can’t believe you!”

With that, the blonde stormed out of the roof.

That was the last time in ten days that Clarke and Lexa talked to each other.

 

* * *

 

**22 October 2015**

**Day 1, 11:46 am**

 

“You know what? I’m done with your shit.”

Clarke was shocked. That was not the reaction she had expected.

“Raven, I don’t know what—“

“Yes you do, Clarke,” the mechanic cut her off with annoyance. “Yes you do and you have all along. You’re neither blind nor stupid. You’re terrified.”

“I’m not—“

“Yes you are! You’re so afraid of getting hurt again that you’re throwing the best opportunity of your life away! Lexa is crazy about you!”

“Well, she didn’t—“

“Yes she did!”

“Can you please stop interrupting me?” Clarke yelled back.

“Can you please stop being fucking stubborn?”

“I’m not being—“

“Yes you are!” Raven interjected again. “I’m sorry Clarke but I don’t believe even for a minute that you were being so fucking blind that you wouldn’t even see how Lexa turned into fucking goo whenever she looked at you!”

“That’s ridic—“

“It’s not! You saw it all, Clarke. You saw it and you knew it. Maybe not consciously but you did. But you kept your eyes shut because you were too damn terrified of what might happen to let yourself see!”

“Terrified of what?”

“Of getting hurt. Of Finn 2.0. Of letting yourself fall in love and then have your heart broken.”

“Lexa is not Finn,” Clarke gritted her teeth.

“Tell yourself that, not me,” Raven shrugged. “You’re the one who’s afraid of that possibility.”

“I’m not—“

“Yes you are!”

“For fuck’s sake Raven, will you stop interrupting me?!”

Raven breathed in and out, trying to recompose herself, and sat down on their couch. “Look. As I see it, it’s very simple.”

“It’s simple to me too. She made me look like an idiot.”

“She didn’t know you liked her,” Raven groaned.

“Oh but I had to know that she liked me?”

“She’s liked you for like half a year. And she hasn’t exactly been secretive about it. I mean, she tries,” the mechanic chuckled. ”But fails miserably.”

“Well I’m sorry that I was too damn blind to see it,” Clarke retorted in a scathing tone and plopped down on the couch beside her friend.

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” Raven laughed. “You weren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I’ve been meaning for the past two hours,” she shrugged and rolled her eyes. “You were not blind, Clarke. You saw everything. You _knew_ she liked you, but you kept on repressing it and denying it and lying to yourself.”

“Why would I even do that?”

“Because from the moment you liked her and she liked you… From that moment, there were feelings and there was a real possibility of a relationship. And suddenly it was all to real.”

“Too real?” Clarke echoed, dubiously raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, too real. You’re afraid of trusting someone else,” Raven said truthfully. “Where there are feelings, there is a relationship and where there is a relationship, there is trust. And you’re not ready to trust yet.”

Clarke stood up. “This is bullshit.”

“Call it whatever you want, Clarke. I call it the truth.”

“If that was true, why am I mad at her now?”

“That I’d like to know,” Raven shot back. “But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s for the exact same reason. You can’t unhear what she said so now Lexa liking you is an undeniable truth and it all became too real for you. So you lashed out. Easier to blame her than face your fears.”

“Whatever, Rae,” Clarke decided and walked towards the door, picking up her keys from the bowl. “Maybe your next major should be in psychology ‘cause you sure got me all figured out.”

Then she opened the door and left, letting it slam shut behind.

 

* * *

 

**23 October 2015**

**Day 2, 1:00 pm**

 

Lexa was not in a good mood.

How could she be? Clarke had left her standing on the roof of a disco after both had confessed their feelings for the other, which was simultaneously very confusing and very annoying.

But above all heart-breaking.

She had waited over 24 hours for Clarke to say something but the wait had resulted fruitless. She had even dared a casual text, something she had chided herself for immediately, utterly embarrassed.

 

 **Lexa </3 [20:32]: **I am watching your show now. Still find the blonde quite breath-taking :)

 

Unsurprisingly, no reply had come to the text.

Thus, Lexa was now not so much confused, annoyed or embarrassed, as she was quite furious.

So that afternoon was basically not a good time to cross paths with Alexandria Diana Woods.

A bad day, then, for Lincoln to take his girlfriend for a visit to the gym — which she did, that afternoon of all afternoons.

Lexa had already managed to curb her grumpiness that morning through a 90-minute Ninjutsu class with around twenty eager and overly enthusiastic six to eight years-old children. That had been, in her modest opinion, a great feet, considering how bad her mood was that day.

Why ask her then that she behave herself when seeing Octavia Blake, the mother of all her problems?

Yes, because Lexa knew that the small girl had some irrational animosity towards her. She was quite sure that the girl had played some role in Clarke’s outburst — and even if that wasn’t true, it was always good to have someone to blame for what she considered a totally illogical behaviour on the blonde’s part.

To be quite honest, Lexa thought Clarke had no right to call her a coward. She had tried to tell the blonde how she felt. That day with the poem. That day with the DVD. Hell, even at the club — but alas, Clarke had forgotten her confession. Of course she had. Lexa was not tailored for a happy ending.

As such, there had to be some cause for Clarke’s mad hattery. And Lexa had decided to attribute it to Octavia Blake.

Imagine her reaction, then, when of all people she saw the tiny, miniscule, annoyingly small brunette enter her gym — _her_ gym — by Lincoln’s arm that morning. It had not been a cheerful one.

Against better judgement, Lexa strode to the pair and made sure to look down at Octavia with the coldest and most despising glare she could possibly come up with.

“Octavia.”

“Commander,” the girl smirked.

“What are you doing here?”

“She’s with me,” Lincoln chimed in with a warm smile. Lexa had no patience for warmth.

“Did you ask for permission to bring her?”

“It’s a free country Commander, I can come here if I want,” Octavia scorned.

“Why did you turn Clarke against me?” Straight to the point, that was how Lexa liked it.

“I didn’t,” the other girl shrugged with disinterest. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re an ass though. Maybe Clarke finally saw that.”

Lexa locked her jaw, not willing to let herself get affected by Octavia’s words.

If only looks could kill. She finally decided on a spiteful enough thing to say.

“Why do you feel so threatened by me?”

Lincoln had to hold Octavia to keep the girl from launching herself at Lexa. It didn’t stop her words, though.

“Go fuck yourself, Lexa!”

“I would rather have Clarke do it.”

“What the fuck, Lexa?” The question had come from Lincoln, who was working extra hard to control his girlfriend.

“I don’t know why you waste your time with that dimwit, Lincoln.”

Lexa turned her back on them and walked away to the staff locker room.

She was barely in when a strong arm spun her around. Lincoln was on the other end of it, a concerned frown over his eyes.

“Don’t make me choose between you two, Lexa.”

She scoffed. “I’m your sister.”

“And she’s the woman I love,” he stated. “So don’t make me choose because I don’t know that you wouldn’t get the short end of the straw.”

Lexa exhaled, her jaw still clenched, and lowered her gaze.

Guilt was starting to spread through her; it had not been her intention to hurt Lincoln or even Octavia’s feelings. She had lashed out in unreasonable fashion. “I’m sorry,” she muttered after some moments.

He smiled. “It’s okay. But I’m not the one who needs apologising to.”

She nodded and straightened her back, stoic mask back on. “Then Octavia will get the apology she deserves.”

The siblings walked out of the locker room, meeting an aggravated young Blake by the door of the gym.

Lexa was the first to speak.

“Please accept my apology, Octavia.”

“You sound like a fucking robot,” the girl replied with a raised eyebrow.

Lexa sighed, trying to contain her annoyance, but her features turned sincere.

“I keep blaming you for what happened, but the truth is… I mildly like you,” she conceded. “I have no idea what happened with Clarke and I tried to pick someone to blame, it happened to be you. You did not deserve that and as such I am honestly sorry. You are a good friend to Clarke.” Octavia finally smiled, even if it was more of a smirk. “And a good girlfriend to Lincoln. And one day, who knows, maybe you will be a good friend to all my family too. Myself included.”

When Octavia hugged her, Lexa couldn’t help but feel her personal space dreadfully invaded. Still, she resisted the urge to shove the girl away.

“Give her a few days, she’ll come around,” Octavia whispered to her ear and Lexa finally returned the hug, albeit still uncomfortable.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

**25 October 2015**

**Day 4, 8:28 pm**

 

**Lexa </3 [18:42]: Clarke…**

 

Clarke looked at the screen, her eyes unwilling to peel away from it, her heart clenching in her chest.

She put her phone away. Lexa had made her look stupid and act like an idiot. Lexa had been a coward. Lexa had always been honest with—

She couldn’t. She had to be strong.

She could probably just pick up her phone and type a little “I miss you.”

Clarke stood up from her bed and headed to the living room. Raven, who was slouched on the couch watching TV, glanced up at her and shook her head reprovingly. Clarke decided to ignore her.

It was already hard enough coming up with reasons to be mad at Lexa without having Raven counter them all with swift logic.

 

****

 

**10:37 pm**

 

**To: Clarke [18:42]: Clarke…**

 

Lexa sat on the edge of the stool in the middle of the locker room, eyes locked on the screen, an emptiness in her chest, body heavy and blue, her heart rate sad and slow like a mourning love song.

So this was what the blues sang about…

The dejected feeling was gradually replaced by an anger that threatened to take over her whole body.

It was the same feeling that had taken over her when she had beaten up two boys that had been laughing at Indra, who had not even paying them any attention. Then older woman had reprimanded her, saying senseless violence only led to more senseless violence.

It was the same feeling that had taken over her when she had fought and lost against three boy who had been bullying Emori for her deformed hand. Then Indra’s eyes had shone in pride even though she’d had to scold her for the violence employed — her people were always worth the fight.

It was the same feeling that had taken over her when she had saved Anya from certain jail time and a gruesome criminal record. Then Indra had nodded in approval — she was becoming the leader that the older woman had always envisioned her to be.

It was the same feeling that had taken over her when she had punched a girl who had said nasty things about her. Then Indra had reproached her heavily, saying matters of the heart were not worth losing her self-control for.

 _Head over heart_ , that was what Indra had told her then.

But in that moment, Lexa doubted her second mother’s words. How could she not feel the ire and revel in it, let it take over her and rule her actions? How could she not feel heartbroken and be in her goddamn right to act on it, screaming her lungs out and breaking things?

In a surge of rage, she leapt off the stool and threw her phone at the wall with all her strength.

The device crashed against the tiles and fell on the floor in pieces.

As soon as she tossed it, Lexa felt a pang of guilt and ran to the now destroyed phone. “Shit,” she uttered under her breath. “Shit shit shit shit.”

She collected the pieces, contemplating the shattered result of her outburst on her palms.

Once again she had let her heart rule over her head.

Once again she had been undeserving of everyone that loved her.

Once again she felt like a monster.

And maybe that was why Clarke had reacted so badly that night. Who would want to love a monster?

 

* * *

 

**26 October 2015**

**Day 5, 11:12am**

 

Apparently, Clarke was doubling her efforts not to see Lexa. So much so that the blonde had decided to break their classroom seating habit and take a spot as far away from Lexa as possible.

Lexa was okay with that for the most part, she felt awful after the cell phone incident and was starting to accept that maybe Clarke was definitely unattainable and things would never be fine between them again.

The issue was that with Clarke having sat in one of the far sides of the room, two girls had taken their usual seats, leaving Lexa to sit in the other. The brunette to the far left, the blonde to the far right. The problem? Everyone knew that the left side of the classroom was freezing cold.

With trembling hands and chattering teeth, Lexa chanced a glance at Clarke. The blonde was apparently comfortable in her late autumn clothes, the sizzling side of the room keeping her warm company.

She sighed. Even with a frown and sadness in her eyes, Clarke looked so beautiful. She was a sight for sore eyes like Lexa’s.

Lexa, on the other hand, was having a hard time resisting the cold. She had never been a winter person, what with her summery clothes and tan complexion. But this — this was even worse than stepping outside to a blizzard and her ears and the tip of her nose were starting to pay the price.

Anya always called her Rudolph when winter started, precisely because of the reddening of every tip in her body. Those were the times when she thanked whatever gods there were for not having a penis.

“Please place your weekend assignments on my desk,” said Professor Kane as soon as he entered the classroom, his charming smile always in place. “And today we will talk about sacrifice. When is it acceptable to sacrifice one — maybe even yourself — for the sake of many?”

Lexa stood up, her paper in hand, and walked the short distance to Kane’s desk. She placed it there and returned to her seat, spotting Clarke as the blonde walked her way to get to the Professor’s desk.

Wishing to avoid Clarke’s hurtful stare, Lexa quickly focused on writing down the theme for that day’s lecture. She felt the blonde approach and walk past her — how could she not, by then it was like being shaken out of her body and shutting out everything around her except for the ruffling of Clarke’s clothes, the scent of her sweet perfume, the decisive steps, the gentle flowing of her golden hair.

What she only noticed when Clarke was already placing her paper on Kane’s desk and turning back around, however, were the gloves the blonde had left for her on her desk. _CG_ was written on the label and Lexa would recognise the gloves anywhere, besides there was that marvellous scent that the blonde carried around of pineapples and the cloudless sky.

Lexa picked up the gloves and glanced at Clarke. The blonde was heading back to her desk and had taken a different path, clearly so that she wouldn’t walk by Lexa again.

The brunette stared at the gloves in wonder. _She still cares_.

After putting the gloves on, Lexa did not dare look at Clarke again. However, knowing there was still a chance gave her reassurance.

There was still hope that the blonde would come around and maybe, just maybe, see Lexa in a better light than the brunette saw herself.

 

* * *

 

**28 October 2015**

**Day 7, 12:36 pm**

 

For the first time in days, they finally crossed paths and locked gazes.

Clarke was climbing down the stairs to the cafeteria, whereas Lexa was going up. Neither noticed the other until their eyes found each other, green and blue, a union much overdue.

Both stopped dead in their tracks.

Clarke had almost forgotten what it felt like to drown in Lexa’s eyes and their sheer intensity. She was so beautiful. Clarke couldn’t help but stare in admiration of her braids and her lips and her jawline and that look of tragic innocence.

Lexa’s gaze was one of hope, a plea interwoven in tresses of green and grey and those occasional little golden specks, along with rare strokes of cerulean sadness. She was so, so beautiful.

So young and tragic.

Looking down at Lexa from atop the stairs, Clarke wanted to close the distance between them and hold the girl in her arms. Fear took over her nonetheless and then anger and next thing Clarke knew, she was turning around and walking away, leaving a dejected but unwavering Lexa behind.

 

* * *

 

**29 October**

**Day 8, 1:40 pm**

 

After saying goodbye to Raven, Octavia stood by the door of the apartment, a box in her hands and tears in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the nest already,” Clarke murmured, her eyes watery as well. “It’s against the laws of Nature! You’re the youngest!”

“And the most mature apparently,” the brunette chuckled sadly, handing her box to Raven. “At least you won’t have to hear me and Linc have sex again.”

“You guys bang like all the time, it was almost background music to me.”

Octavia threw her arms around Clarke’s neck and let her tears run freely.

“You’re such an ass.”

“But I’m your ass,” the blonde replied and her husky voice showed she had not been able to keep her tears at bay.

“Yes you are,” Octavia sniffed. “And I’m your boobs.”

“Yeah,” and neither of them was containing their sobs now.

“I saw your girlfriend the other day,” Octavia whispered. This opportunity was as good as any. “She looks like shit.”

Clarke made to break off the hug, but the small brunette was startlingly strong and kept the blonde wrapped to her body.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Clarke muttered through gritted teeth.

“Yet.” The blonde could almost see her friend wiggling her eyebrows. “Just please don’t take too long to make that happen.”

Clarke sighed. “I’ll try.”

Good enough. Octavia smiled and kissed her cheek, stepping away from the embrace. Clarke smiled fondly.

“Give Lincoln a kiss for me.”

“Oh I’ll give him that and so much more,” Octavia grinned devilishly.

“Ew not for me please,” Clarke laughed. “And tell him to take good care of you. Or I’ll have Raven blow up his house.”

“And I’ll do it gladly,” the mechanic chimed in with a beam, setting the box in her hands down on the floor.

“You guys are the best,” Octavia sobbed and pulled both girls into a hug, strong and heartfelt.

If the three of them shed some more tears, they would never admit to it.

 

* * *

 

**31 October 2015**

**Day 10, 9:00 — 9:24 pm**

 

If you asked Lexa what she was dressed up as and why, she would snarl at you and leave you with answers a brand new shit in your pants. At least that’s what had happened to Jasper — and she had smirked at the outcome, clearly satisfied with herself.

If you asked Anya what Lexa was wearing, she would just shoot you an irritated glare and tell you something along the lines of “fuck off.”

If you asked Lincoln what Lexa was wearing, he would just sigh and roll his eyes, begging you not to drag him into it.

If you asked Raven — or Octavia, for that matter — what Lexa was wearing, they would smirk, maybe wink, and tell you to ask Clarke.

If you asked Clarke what Lexa was wearing, the blonde would answer easily and probably blush in the process, later telling you that Lexa had dressed up as her favourite character in the world. But Clarke wasn’t there, was she?

However, and hypothetically considering that Clarke _was_ there (which she wasn’t, much to Lexa’s dismay), you would have the information needed to then ask the brunette why she was wearing it.

Then, if you were able to live through the death glare and feral growl with bare teeth without shitting yourself, Lexa would be disarmed and finally tell you, with deep red ears, flustered cheeks and a whispered stammer, that it was Clarke’s favourite character.

And then, if you cared to think for a bit, you’d have your ultimate answer: Lexa missed Clarke so much that she was dressed up as the blonde’s favourite character (who happened to bear striking resemblance to Lexa) just so she could feel a bit of Clarke with her that night. The night they had agreed to go on a (friendly) date long before they had started fighting.

But Clarke wasn’t there so you would never have your answer and Lexa would never embarrass herself and tell you everything — and honestly: piss off.

 

****

 

Clarke wasn’t dressed up as anything.

Only, she was quite fed up with Halloween. All those masks and parties and sweets and children and— _happiness_. Disgusting concept, if you asked her.

Pouty and insistent in her bad mood, Clarke had decided not to dress up. As such, she had simply put on a blue leather jacket over a blue-grey t-shirt and some gloves to keep her hands warm — she had to keep her hands warm, it was fucking cold — and if she slightly resembled the character on her show that Lexa had the hots for… Well. It was mere coincidence.

Certainly nothing to do with Lexa.

Clarke was now wandering around the streets, as Bellamy had demanded, his hipster plan for Halloween. Everyone else knew it was just his excuse to feel like a child again, but no one commented on it. Truth was that they were all excited for it.

Except Clarke. Clarke had decided to boycott Halloween cheerfulness and excitement.

“Hey Griffin.” Raven’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. “Where’s your other half?”

Clarke tried her best not to glower (and tried even harder to convince herself that she’d succeeded) and pulled poor Monty towards her.

“Right here,” she said, throwing an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “With Monty by my side, I always feel complete.”

Raven’s response was an eye roll.

“I would love to be your Halloween love, Clarke,” Monty finally spoke. “But I’m taken. And very much gay.”

“One of the only situations where being bi still keeps me unsatisfied,” Clarke joked. “Anyone willing to be my Halloween love? Not you Jasper.”

The boy lowered his hand, disappointed.

“Bellamy is here,” Raven suggested with a smirk and broke in laughter right away. “Ew forget it, I couldn’t even keep a straight face.”

“Bell is not a guy,” Clarke reasoned. “He’s a teddy bear. A hipster teddy bear for that matter.”

“I am oddly flattered,” the older Blake noted.

“How about Lexa?”

Clarke glared daggers at the source of the sound, none other than Octavia. Of course it had been the baby Blake. No one liked to annoy Clarke with the inconvenient truth more than her.

The blonde didn’t even have to answer, however, because Bellamy had already taken it upon himself to chide his sister.

“Like she’s not all miserable and moody because of the Commander. And like I couldn’t be with Lincoln and Raven with Anya and Bell with Echo because Princess here couldn’t stomach being near Lexa for whatever reason she made up in her own mind,” Octavia grumbled, earning another scowl from Clarke and reprimanding words from her brother. “Just talk to her, Bell. She seems to listen to you more than us for some reason.”

“I’m the teddy bear,” he shrugged like that answered everything.

“Everyone listens to the teddy bear,” Raven supported.

“Guys,” Clarke intervened in an aggravated tone. “Can we please not? I came out tonight to be happy and have a good time.”

“Uh excuse us?” the mechanic rebuked and now she sounded genuinely annoyed. “You came out tonight to walk around with a frown all the damn time and infect us with your bad mood and long, longing sighs. So if you want to fool yourself, fine, go ahead, be my guest. But don’t try to fool _us_. We’ve taken too much shit with this whole Lexa story already.”

To Clarke’s surprise, everyone else nodded in accordance.

Feeling the anger bubbling up inside her, she spit out the only thing that came to her mind, “Shut up guys!” and stomped away.

Octavia watched her best friend with pursed lips and a saddened expression.

“Bell.”

It took only that word for the mop-haired Blake to run after his sisterly friend.

 

//

 

He caught up with her after less than five minutes.

They sat on the edge of the sidewalk in silence until Bellamy decided to break it. “I haven’t meddled in your business so far.”

“And I’d like it to remain like that,” Clarke shot back harshly.

He smiled kindly. “And it will. I’ll just ask you a question and I’m not going to say any names and you’ll only have to answer it honestly.”

She shrugged. Not much harm could come from that. “Whatever. Go ahead.”

“I know your mind isn’t with us tonight so here it is: where would you rather be right now? At this lame ass pseudo Halloween party or with the person flooding your every thought?”

Clarke sighed despite herself. When she finally spoke, her voice seemed to come out of its own volition.

“With her.”

Bellamy grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, side-hugging her tightly. “Then stop moping around and go do something about it.”

 

//

 

**10:00 pm**

 

It had not been easy.

Hell, it had been the exact opposite.

It had taken convincing Anya to help her and ask Lexa to go fetch something non-existent outside while a huge party roared from the speakers and the rowdy young adults jumping and dancing around. Not that Lexa would have minded getting away from all the noise, Clarke was quite sure, but she had certainly needed a good reason to leave her own comfortable bedroom.

And now, here they stood outside the boisterous house, Lexa with a hardened expression and Clarke with all her fears on her sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” Not the best way to start the conversation but simply the most honest. “I was afraid and pushed you away and I’m sorry.”

A hint of kindness crossed Lexa’s features, only for the unreadable mask to come back on. “You have done this one too many times, Clarke.”

“I know.”

“And I am honestly getting tired of running after you and wishing for you to come back,” Lexa said, her voice less cold than it was authoritative. “Waiting for you.”

“I know.”

“I feel like I say blue and you want me to say red. But if I say red it turns out you wanted me to say blue.”

“Maybe I want you to say purple,” she tried with a shy smile.

“What do you want Clarke?”

“You.”

The simplicity of it took them both aback.

Lexa was the first to recover. “You had me ten days ago — and you walked away.”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what? Of me?”

“Of how you feel. Of how I feel. Of what might come out of it.”

Lexa averted her gaze to the floor, green eyes blue.

“Of us,” she concluded in a wounded whisper.

“No,” Clarke denied immediately, heart clenching, and she walked up to Lexa, taking the brunette’s hands in hers. “Not us. I _want_ us. I want us so bad that it scared me. Still does.”

Understanding dawned on Lexa and she stood straighter, her features hardening again and the jaw locking at the realisation. “I am not Finn, Clarke. You are not Costia. And we are not the people we were then.”

“I know.”

“Then if you know, why keep on pushing me away?”

“Because I can’t just snap my fingers and poof, all my fears are gone,” Clarke explained. “I wasn’t ready. Not yet. But I am now.”

“You hurt me.”

Clarke lowered her gaze, guilt taking over her chest. “I know.”

“You called me a coward.”

“I know and— and I take it all back because you are the bravest person I know and I was saying all those hurtful things just to validate my own pointless anger.”

Lexa looked up at blue eyes and then back down again. Clarke felt on the knife’s edge, one misstep and she might accidentally push Lexa away again.

Lexa stared back into Clarke’s eyes, searching for them and holding her gaze, that leafy green enveloping the blonde in a warm embrace.

“I really like you, Clarke,” she said after some moments, her voice struggling to remain stoic.

The admission filled Clarke with hope and she renewed the intensity of her own blue gaze, smiling lovingly at the brunette. “I really like you too.”

“Are you ready now?”

The question surprised her. Of course she was ready and she wanted Lexa to know that and revel in it. She wanted Lexa to know that she wanted this, her, them. She nodded with a kind smile. “Yes.”

Lexa pursed her lips and heaved a relenting sigh. “Then I guess that leaves me no option but to forgive you.”

Lexa slipped a hand from Clarke’s and placed it on the back of the blonde’s neck, pulling her gently in. Next thing Clarke knew, Lexa’s lips were on hers.

The blonde was surprised at first but when Lexa paused momentarily to make sure she was okay with it, she melted into the kiss right away, pushing forward and sighing into it. Lexa smiled. Her lips were gentle and soft, her severity gone and replaced by a tenderness that Clarke immediately fell in love with.

Their lips brushed together like two wands of the same core, moving in perfect sync. Lexa’s lips were warm. Cold because of the weather outside, but grazing Clarke’s with such heartfelt kindness that they wrapped the blonde in a world made just for the two of them, shielded from everything else.

It was just them, Clarke and Lexa; and Clarke was _Lexa, Lexa, Lexa_ , and Lexa was _Clarke, Clarke, Clarke_. It was Lexa’s lips and how sweet they were and the way her hand was playing with the baby hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck. It was Clarke sitting her hands on Lexa’s waist, bringing them as close as possible. And it was Lexa’s nose rubbing against Clarke’s and poking at her skin with every candid tilt of her head and lips.

It was a chaste kiss. Slow, tender, respectful and so loving that left Clarke eager for more when Lexa sucked on her lower lip before pulling away to breathe and smile.

They rested their foreheads together, smiling with eyes shut, breathing each other’s air, noses barely touching, rejoicing in the other’s company. Lexa opened her eyes and placed a feather light kiss on the tip of Clarke’s nose, at which the blonde also opened her eyes to gaze into pools of loving green.

“I have been wanting to do this for quite some time,” Lexa confessed in a grinning whisper.

Clarke giggled, happiness simmering from her chest. “Me too,” she confessed in an even lower whisper, like a secret only for Lexa’s ears to catch.

She placed a quick peck on Lexa’s lips, basking in the emotional intimacy of it.

Lexa smiled into the blonde’s lips. “Good.”

“I love your face paint,” Clarke mocked kindly.

“Just for you.”

The blonde hummed with amusement. “What else would you do for me?”

“Take you on a proper date,” Lexa smirked. "Love in the candlelight."

“That sounds proper.”

“Very. And then show you off to everyone I see because you are the most beautiful girl in the land and I am the happiest,” she chuckled and Clarke could feel the truth in her words, the utter bliss she exuded. ”And what would you do for me, Clarke?“

The blonde giggled again. “Kiss you. Many times. All the time.”

“Sounds good,” Lexa said and met her lips her again chastely.

Clarke, however, was desperate to revel in the novelty of it all and quickly swept her tongue over Lexa’s lips, seeking for entrance — which the brunette granted right away, deepening the kiss.

For the first time they danced freely, courageous, unswerving, and rarely had Clarke felt so fearlessly happy.

It was but the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (bonus points if you were able to spot the hidden message in the hours — oh and the shameless Halsey and HP references lol)
> 
> First of all, THANK YOU for all your kind comments, you're truly my fuel. Reading your comments after every chapter fills me with joy ^-^
> 
> You know when you’re trying to write a chapter and all ideas you come up with are for every other chapter? Like the sex chapter? OMG SPOILER. But yeah, that’s what happened to me.
> 
> Also, a keen reader asked me on Tumblr if I had written "for Elise" as reference to Beethoven and yes I did, thanks for noticing :D actually, Elise's surname was the married name of the woman rumoured to be the dedicatee of the _Für Elise_ bagatelle: Therese von Droßdik (née Malfatti). Just thought you'd like the little piece of trivia :)


	14. the daters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m serious, Clarke,” Lexa stated sternly and lifted her torso, wrapping her arms around the blonde and pinning her to the bed beside her. “Now stop with your tomfoolery.”  
> “How old are you,” Clarke scoffed. “Seventy?”  
> “I am an old soul, Clarke.”  
> “It shows,” the blonde whispered kindly and kissed her cheek.
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke and Lexa's day of fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry for the delay :(
> 
> Omg I must sound like a broken record by now but thank you so much for all your kind comments <3
> 
> We're getting closer and closer to the end. Get ready, pals!
> 
> As for this chapter: basically all fluff. Shamelessly cheesy, sickeningly sweet, cringe-worthy fluff.

When Lexa finally broke the kiss, she took a deep breath and let out a laugh, the first in years perhaps.

At Clarke’s confused expression, she simply took the blonde’s cheeks in her hands and chastely kissed those marvellous pink lips with passion, a sweet kind of desperation even.

Lexa had no words for how she was feeling. She felt light, weightless, like gravity had no grip on her. She felt heavy, present, like for once in her life the world was acknowledging her presence. She felt like a rainbow, happy, colourful, pots of gold at her fingertips. She felt like a colourless day, a desperate kiss in the rain, the cleansing water blessing her face. She felt like she had finally found herself, powerful and beautiful and real. She felt lost, hopelessly and blissfully lost in those blue eyes like the deepest oceans and those pink lips, tender paintbrushes kissing masterpieces out of thin air.

Lexa was as tied up as she was free.

Still, not all was roses and magic. “Clarke,” she started, her voice hoarse and still out of breath, eyes returning to their green colour.

The blonde was still smiling delightedly, heaven on her closed eyelids. “Yeah?”

“I decided to forgive you, but that does not mean… I still haven’t forgiven you. Not completely.“

Clarke nodded and took one of Lexa’s hands, lacing their fingers together. “I will do everything to get you to forgive me.”

Lexa took Clarke by the hand back inside the house. The party, roaring around them, was no more than a crowd of ghosts frozen in time, silence falling in a dome around the couple.

Lexa led them into the back hall and entered her bedroom, breaking contact with Clarke and closing the door behind them to shut out the sound. She sat down on her bed, patting on the empty space on the duvet beside her for Clarke to sit down, which the blonde did.

Little Pauna was sleeping on its bed, undisturbed by all the commotion around her.

Lexa took the blonde’s hand again, this time in her own both hands, and started playing with her fingers, her eyes focused on tan skin brushing over white.

She inhaled deeply, gulping slightly, and her eyes travelled upward to meet Clarke’s. “I just don’t know that I can take you running away again,” she said at last, lowering her gaze back to their linked hands.

With her other hand, the blonde placed her fingers under Lexa’s chin, lifting it gently so that their eyes would meet. “I won’t, Lexa. I promise.”

“I do not see that such a promise can be made, Clarke.”

“Okay then,” the girl relented. “I promise that I will do my best not to run away again.”

“It would help if you stopped jumping to conclusions,” the brunette smiled faintly. “You really, really hurt me, Clarke.”

The blonde heaved a sigh, her eyes averting from Lexa’s. “All those things, all those talks… The poem, the DVD, the ghost girl,” she looked back up and kissed the other girl’s cheek. “It was all me, wasn’t it?” Lexa nodded. “You tried to tell me,” and the brunette nodded again.

“Yes.”

“But I kept on cutting you off.” Clarke chuckled then. “I guess I should start letting you finish your sentences.”

Lexa smiled, a hint of amusement in the quirking of her lips, “I guess so.”

Only then did Clarke seem to notice that Lexa was still shaking from the cold and concern washed over her face. “You’re cold.”

Lexa chuckled. “I was not made for winter.”

The blonde started taking off her gloves. “Here, take these.”

“Clarke, I already have a pair of your gloves in my drawer. I do not want to be even more in your debt.”

Clarke laughed heartily at that, making the brunette’s ears turn red. “You’re not in my debt for anything, Lexa. Just put on the damn gloves.”

Lexa shook her head stubbornly. This was not a battle she would lose. “No.”

Clarke smirked. “Fine, you win,” and then she snaked her arms around Lexa’s waist, keeping her warm and close.

Lexa felt her ears burn and her cheeks turn into a deep shade of red. She still wasn’t used to these demonstrations of affection, but oh did she love them. Feeling the warmth of Clarke and her naturally caring personality was truly a blessing.

Clarke leaned back for a moment with a smirk.

“As much as I like that corset type of thing you’ve got going on, it’s kind of uncomfortable hugging-wise,” the blonde said and started helping Lexa take it off.

“There, better now?” the brunette asked with a smirk of her own.

“Much better.”

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa again and nuzzled deeper into the brunette’s side. Lexa enveloped the blonde in her arms and leaned back to lie on the bed, both girls lifting their legs onto the mattress.

“How did it take me so long to find my way to you?”

Lexa sighed, contented and answerless. “Need we really know that, Clarke?”

The blonde sighed as well and buried her face in Lexa’s shoulder. “Are you warm now?”

“Very much. Thank you, Clarke.”

“No, thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the warmth of body against body. While it was true that Lexa had liked Clarke for a long while, they had been friends before anything romantic had developed between the two and that made their bond stronger. As much as Lexa cared for Anya and Lincoln and considered them her best friends, what she had with Clarke — the friendship — was something simply outstanding. It stemmed from an understanding that no one else shared.

Lexa might have been through the same experiences as her family and there might be things that no other person could fathom, but she felt like she _knew_ Clarke on some deeper, larger-than-life level; and she felt that Clarke knew her too.

“I’d like to draw you one of these days.”

The admission brought Lexa out of her thoughts. She lifted a quizzical eyebrow at the blonde. “Why so?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Clarke said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, adorning the words with a shrug. “And I like drawing beautiful things.”

“You should draw yourself often then. I have never seen a woman so beautiful.”

“Flatterer,” the blonde teased.

“It’s true, Clarke. But you can draw me someday if you wish,” Lexa conceded with a warm smile and a kiss to the crown of the other girl’s head.

The blonde allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. Mission accomplished, Lexa guessed with a light chuckle.

“Stop laughing at me,” Clarke giggled.

“Stop being so cute.”

The blonde softly slapped the brunette’s abdomen and shook her head.

They stayed there, snuggling on Lexa bed, for another long period of time while silence soothed their fears and caressed their skin.

“I need to pee.”

Trying not to laugh, Lexa pointed out where the bathroom was and got off the bed at the same time the blonde left the bedroom. While Clarke was absent, Lexa took to taking off her jacket, pants and boots and put on a large hoody and sweatpants.

Pauna decided that was the perfect time to wake up and greeted her owner with a wagging tail and adoring kisses.

The door opened then and Clarke showed up. Recognising the blonde, Pauna ran to her and greeted her cheerfully.

“She already knows you,” Lexa acknowledged with a smile.

“After one morning?” the blonde chuckled and lifted Pauna from the floor. “I doubt it.”

“You make quite an impression, Clarke.”

The girl grinned brightly and Lexa felt her insides melt. She could never get tired of that dazzling smile.

With Pauna in her arms, Clarke sat back on the bed. “Now where were we?”

“Cuddling, I think.”

“You’re very good at it,” the blonde winked and let Pauna sit on her lap.

Lexa sat down too and returned to her previous lying position. Seeing her owner, Pauna hopped off Clarke’s lap and curled in a ball next to the brunette’s stomach.

Clarke smiled fondly at the sight and lay down too, burrowing into Lexa’s left side, opposite to the dog. The brunette wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I like this sweater,” Clarke said and draped her left arm under the hoodie and over Lexa’s black tank top.

Lexa gulped and felt heat creeping up her neck as the blonde’s hand rested on her abdomen. She could feel every line and hill of Clarke’s hand through the thin fabric of the onyx top.

Lexa could not envisage her near future without Clarke in it and she wanted to live it fully. She had the blonde now, she had her affection, and wanted — needed — to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“I would love to take you on a date,” she said, her turn to break the silence.

Clarke looked up and grinned widely. “I would love to be taken on a date. Now I believe I was promised love in the candlelight.”

Lexa blushed. “That was not exactly what I meant,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks smoulder. “I might have romanticised it in the heat of the moment.”

“Yes, it was quite the hot moment,” the blonde agreed with a sly grin, knowing that Lexa would become even more flustered. She had not been wrong. “And I thought that a date was supposed to be romantic.”

“And it will be,” Lexa salvaged very seriously. “But not love in the candlelight.”

Clarke seemed to muse on the matter for some seconds. Lexa knew the blonde was mocking her but she still couldn’t help but hold her breath.

“Sounds good,” Clarke acquiesced reverently and dropped a kiss on the brunette’s cheek.

Lexa brushed her fingertips over Clarke’s jawline until the chin, which she lifted gently to then kiss the blonde’s lips.

It was a slow and comfortable kiss, each reposing and finding relief in the other’s lips.

At least until Lexa sucked on Clarke’s lower lip, making her moan. Seeking retribution, the blonde nipped at Lexa’s lip, getting from it the same reaction the brunette had, and soothed it right away with her tongue. Sensing the change of pace, Lexa parted her lips, allowing Clarke entrance, and welcomed the deepening of the kiss with another moan.

The kiss was now passionate and rushed, dark eyes closed and swelling lips dancing around fast-beating hearts. Lexa was drowning and if she didn’t return to surface for air, she had no idea what might happen to her poor fragile heart. Needing to breathe, she broke the kiss with a dazed smile. Clarke brushed her lips against Lexa’s neck, eliciting a deep moan from the brunette. Clarke laughed in delight.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Still in a haze and unable to form words, Lexa nodded repeatedly, earning another laughter from the blonde.

Taking the brunette by surprise, Clarke pinned her to the bed and propped herself up, swinging a leg over Lexa to straddle her hips. All Lexa could do was widen her eyes at Clarke on top of her, beautiful, breath-taking, and a goddess, and she could not fathom how this blue-eyed angel had chosen her of all people, the broken-winged fiend that ruined everything she touched.

Clarke smirked at Lexa’s dark eyes and leaned down to kiss her way down the neckline of the brunette, who threw her head back to allow further access.

Gently, tenderly and afraid to corrupt the blonde’s beauty with her touch, Lexa placed her hands on her hips, caressing with feather-light fingers the skin that Clarke’s leaning down had exposed. She felt the soft skin tingle at her touch, goose bumps giving it texture and inciting her to go on.

Clarke straightened her back and looked down at Lexa. The brunette was happy to notice that she wasn’t the only one whose eyes were dark. The blue in the blonde’s orbs was now but a thin ring around a starry deep night.

Clarke smiled fondly and Lexa could feel the love and need and want in her gaze. She leaned up and forward to kiss the blonde’s lips.

Clarke, however, had other ideas and pushed her back down with wiggling eyebrows and a mischievous smile.

“Not yet,” she said and crossed her arms, propping them on Lexa’s chest. The brunette rolled her eyes, deep down more amused than annoyed at the blonde’s power play. “So what are we now? Booty calls?”

Lexa huffed sardonically. “Please.”

Clarke grazed her lips over her jawline, taking her painful time until she finally kissed it. Lexa barely held in a sigh of relief.

“So what are we?” Clarke teased. “Friends with benefits?” She now kissed Lexa’s chin and the brunette could feel herself going crazy at the provocation. “Gal pals?” A kiss on the tip of Lexa’s nose.

Trying to fight her raggedy breath, Lexa croaked, “I am not going to say it, Clarke.”

The blonde laughed, earning an eye roll from Lexa. “Oh yes you are.”

“I thought you were the one who was supposed to be working for forgiveness,” Lexa smirked.

“And I will,” Clarke giggled. “Right after you say it.”

“What? Vampire? That one is a cliché.”

Clarke let out a laugh and Lexa was in heaven. “Ass.”

The brunette’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m your ass?”

“No, that’s Raven.”

“Do I even want to ask?”

“You know Raven and Octavia, they’re the weirdest friends in the world.”

“They are good friends,” Lexa reasoned with honesty. “They want the best for you.”

“Are you the best for me, Lexa?” Clarke asked with a wink.

“I certainly hope so.”

“Good.” The blonde leaned in again and traced Lexa’s features with her lips, toying with her earlobe, kissing her eyebrow, cheek, jawline, chin, nose. “Now say it.”

“No.”

“Okay,” the blonde relented but only for a second, for the next she was nipping at Lexa’s neck and soothing each mark with her tongue.

Lexa let out a loud moan and finally gave in. “Alright Clarke. Alright,” she let out between shaky breaths. “You win.”

Clarke leaned away and smirked, not before dropping a tender kiss between Lexa’s eyes.

“We are dating,” the brunette whispered and Clarke’s smirk turned into a loving grin, wider by the second. “We are a couple. And I am going to surprise you with the best first date you have ever had.”

“Ugh I hate surprises.”

“Better even,” and it was Lexa’s turn to smirk. “Now behave yourself, Clarke.”

“I’ll try,” the blonde giggled.

“I’m serious, Clarke,” Lexa stated sternly and lifted her torso, wrapping her arms around the blonde and pinning her to the bed beside her. “Now stop with your tomfoolery.”

“How old are you,” Clarke scoffed. “Seventy?”

“I am an old soul, Clarke.”

“It shows,” the blonde whispered kindly and kissed her cheek.

Lexa smiled contentedly, still holding Clarke in her arms. They fell into an adoring silence, just staring into each other’s eyes, sometimes the lips, eyes eventually giving in to sleepiness and dropping shut.

Suddenly something very urgent occurred to Lexa and she had to make sure. Not daring to open her eyes, she whispered, “Will you stay the night?”

She could feel Clarke smile. “Of course,” the girl whispered back.

Lexa heaved a relieved sigh and smiled, never happier.

As the night went on, Clarke ended up falling asleep before Lexa. The blonde turned her back to Lexa at a certain point and the brunette draped her arm over her waist. Without even knowing how it had come to it, they were cuddling, Clarke’s back flush against Lexa’s front.

Lexa found out that her new favourite thing in the world was Clarke’s hair and being big spoon allowed her to practically suffocate herself in it. It was an exhilarating feeling.

 

//

 

Sunlight is a funny thing. We welcome it as much as we despise its arrival. It hurts our eyes, kills our skin; and yet is essential to our survival. It can blind us, but without it we would be blind.

When sunlight peered through the window, Lexa cursed its voyeuristic ways, but as soon as she looked over at Clarke sleeping beside her, she realised why the light couldn’t help but sneak a glance at such otherworldly beauty.

Feeling like the Thomas to the blonde’s Jane, her eyes a lens raking over skin, Lexa let herself get lost in the sight of the alabaster-skinned woman. How the light kissed her hair, making it glow brighter than gold, and how tiny rays of sunshine seemed to peek through the blonde’s eyelashes over peacefully closed eyes.

Clarke had rolled over again some time during the night and was now facing Lexa, a serene smile on her lips and their legs tangled over the sheets. Lexa tried to scoot over to the blonde but was stopped by a little curled up body.

Pauna was sleeping in a ball between the two girls like a small child between the parents. Lexa couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips at seeing the lovely naked dog so comfortable while trapped between their bodies.

“Clarke,” she called in a murmur to no avail.

Lexa then leaned in and dropped a light kiss on the blonde’s lips and only then did she get the expected twitch of the blonde’s perfect features and an adorable crunching up of her nose.

“Babe,” Clarke half-whispered, half-groaned, and that made Lexa’s smile widen. The blonde’s eyes fluttered open and her lips opened in a grin. “Hey there.”

Lexa’s cheeks were tinged with a soft pink at the word ‘babe’.

“Hi,” she muttered softly, almost sheepish. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing,” Clarke grinned brightly and stretched her arms, proceeding to wrap them around Lexa’s neck.

The brunette took the chance to kiss her again, this time taking her time exploring the blonde’s lips and all their quirks, each line and bump and slit, each hint of flavour and aroma that she could capture with her own lips. Breathe in every sigh and smile, every wordless whisper of relief and affection.

Lexa felt at home in Clarke’s lips.

“I actually have to go now,” the blonde spoke but did not break the kiss.

“Please stay a little longer.”

“I don’t have a car, the walk home will take me like an hour.”

Lips still attached, Lexa found a solution. “I will drive you.”

Clarke hummed against the kiss with a smile that made the brunette’s heart stop. “I guess I can stay for a while then.” She looked down at the dog sleeping between them. “For Pauna.”

It was Lexa’s turn to smile. “Yes, she would be crushed if you didn’t stay.”

 

****

 

Clarke had told Lexa that it was best if the brunette didn’t come in, knowing too well that Raven and Octavia would be waiting behind the door, eager to prey on every new bit of information they could hunt. Maybe even terrify Lexa just a little bit, especially Octavia, but that was secondary.

Thus, there they were, standing in front of the door to the blonde’s apartment, saying goodbye after Lexa had driven her there. They had napped for another hour in each other’s arms on the brunette’s bed until Clarke had really needed to go.

“How does next Saturday sound to you?”

Clarke was snapped out of her daydreaming and looked over at Lexa, a confused look on her face. “Sound to me what?”

The brunette rolled her eyes. “The date, Clarke.”

“A whole week waiting,” the blonde whined as she clutched the hem of Lexa’s jacket and pulled her closer. “I don’t know that I can do that.”

“Clarke, you’re not a dog. You have self-control, of course you can wait.”

The blonde rolled her eyes but amusement was clear in her lips. “I love it when you’re literal.”

She kissed Lexa chastely and pulled away with a wink, turning to the door.

“So I will see you on Saturday?” Lexa asked quickly before the blonde could enter the apartment, making her turn back to the brunette.

“And class.”

“I will pick you up at eight.”

“Why can’t I pick you up instead?”

“Clarke, we have already established that you are a terrible driver,” Lexa stated seriously. “I would rather not die on my first date.”

Clarke kissed her again and opened the door to the apartment. “I control the radio.”

Before Lexa could reply, Clarke entered the flat and closed the door, leaning her back against it, eyes closed and a dreamy expression on her face. It had taken too long to get together, but now they were — and she was not going to screw it up this time.

“So you have a date.”

Clarke opened her eyes, not surprised at the sight of Raven and Octavia and the mechanic’s direct approach to the topic.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “As a matter of fact I do.”

“Will the Commander _command_ you to bed on Saturday?” Octavia asked wiggling her eyebrows, making Clarke groan while she pushed herself off the door.

“Oh my god O, that was such a bad pun.”

“Hey, just so you know, my puns are amazing.”

“Amazing is definitely not the word I would use,” Raven chimed in.

The petite brunette stuck her tongue out at the mechanic. “Like you even know how to make good puns.”

“I know how to make a damn joke.”

“Yeah,” Octavia huffed out a laugh. “Clearly.”

Raven rolled her eyes and turned to Clarke again.

“So. Last night. How did it go?”

“It went well,” Clarke replied, trying to disclose as little as possible.

“Nice try Princess,” Octavia laughed. “Now spill the beans.”

Clarke sighed. “Fine. I apologised, she said she would forgive me—“

“So she didn’t really forgive you? Just said she would?”

“Yeah.”

“Honestly, I’m glad she’s not letting you off that easily,” Raven reasoned.

“Thanks for you unconditional support, Rae,” the blonde poured as much sarcasm as she could into her words.

“You know I’m right, Griffin. It wouldn’t be healthy or fair if she didn’t make you work for it.”

“I know,” Clarke admitted. “And I will prove to her that she can forgive me, Raven. I won’t screw it up.”

Raven smirked, though caringly, and nodded. “So. Date on Saturday. What are you two doing?”

Clarke hesitated before answering. “I actually have no idea.” She shrugged. “Lexa wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Octavia laughed, earning a glare from the blonde. “You’re a mess, Clarke. And I bet you didn’t even do the do last night.”

“Of course not,” Clarke exclaimed in an indignant tone. “We just cuddled.”

Raven and Octavia smirked and waggled their eyebrows at each other.

“They cuddled,” the mechanic teased. “How adorable.”

“Oh my god, guys!”

“Did she tell you a bedtime story?” Octavia scoffed too.

Deciding to ignore her friends, Clarke pushed past them and headed to her bedroom. There, she unlocked her phone and texted.

 

**Clarke [12:37]: did you get home ok?**

 

The reply took only seconds.

 

**Lexa [12:38]: Yes, Clarke. No need to worry.**

**Clarke [12:39]: Lol you don’t need to pretend to be all tough with me, Lexa. I can see right through you ;)**

The next response actually took some minutes to arrive and Clarke blushed profusely when she opened it.

**Lexa [12:41]: What else can you see through me?**

**Clarke [12:42]: shut up you tease…**

**Clarke [12:42]: what should I wear on Saturday?**

**Lexa [12:44]: Nothing too fancy… But please do not show up underdressed either. On second thought, everything looks perfect on you, so the only must-bring for this date is your beautiful self :)**

**Clarke [12:50]: Smooth jerk you are. I will ;)**

A knock on her door interrupted Clarke’s daydreaming.

“Come in!”

Raven opened the door with a tentative smile. “Hey Griffin.”

Clarke smiled. “Hey Reyes.”

“Listen, I… I wanted to tell you I’m really happy for you,” the mechanic started and sat next to Clarke on the bed. “Proud of you too.”

“Thanks, Rae.”

“I know how much you like Lexa and how much she likes you and it’s been stressful,” she chuckled, “but amazing to see you two come together. And you made mistakes but I’m glad you’re working to correct them.”

Clarke side-hugged her, taking her by surprise. “Thank you,” she whispered on the brunette’s ear.

Raven grinned. “Anytime, Griffin. And I really like your girlfriend. Couldn’t have chosen better.”

It was Clarke’s turn to beam brightly. “I agree.”

That was the moment Octavia chose to plunge in Clarke’s bedroom and launch herself at the other two girls in a hug.

“You’re growing up Clarke,” she declared, keeping a tight grip on her friends. “Mama Raven and Mama O are proud.”

Clarke laughed heartily and was sure she couldn’t have asked for better friends.

 

//

 

The week couldn’t end fast enough.

Clarke had tried. Maybe if she slept through most of it, time would fly by quicker. It had not worked. Finishing up every assignment and studying for every exam had not helped either, though her grades would certainly be thankful for the extra work put into college.

Of course she had seen Lexa during the week, especially during their shared classes, when they would sit together and basically just smile at each other all the way through like idiots in love. Seriously, Clarke was pretty sure they looked ridiculous.

Clarke would doodle Lexa’s eyes, lips, collarbone, neck, hair, everything, as often as she could and even though she felt sort of stupid doing it, it was a great stress reliever. Lexa would just stare at her in wonder, making her feel like Superwoman or something, when she was no more than plain and simple Clarke Griffin. Lexa, however, seemed to see so much more and sometimes Clarke let herself believe that maybe she was. Maybe being Clarke Griffin wasn’t that plain and simple — maybe it was something unique and extraordinary.

Naturally, that wasn’t true. But Lexa looked at her like it entirely was and Clarke couldn’t help but bask in the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Lexa was actually right.

It certainly felt amazing to be looked at and perceived that way.

Clarke felt a hand brush against the back of hers and looked up, leaving her silly thoughts behind. A wide grin spread in her face at seeing who was walking right beside her with a shy smile.

She leaned in to drop a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “Hey Lex.”

Clarke was always surprised at how red Lexa turned with such little demonstrations of affection. “Hello Clarke,” the brunette uttered, her voice barely audible.

Clarke held her hand, lacing their fingers together. Lexa stiffened at first but immediately melted into the contact.

“How are you doing today, babe?”

“Clarke, we just texted five minutes ago,” Lexa responded, ever serious. “I have already answered that question at least six times.”

“How precise,” the blonde giggled.

Lexa just shrugged. “I lost count at six. So, are you ready for tomorrow, Clarke?”

Clarke grinned so widely and brightly she was sure actual sunbeams had come out of her teeth. “Yes.”

Lexa allowed herself to smile just a little bit wider. “Good.”

Then Clarke tugged on her hand.

“Just please tell me where we’re going,” she groaned. “I can’t handle not knowing.”

Lexa smirked. “I can tell you that it is not a restaurant but you will eat dinner with me.”

“Oh, I like that. What more?”

As they walked out of the college building, hand in hand, the sun led their way by enlightening the path destined for them.

“I can’t tell you anymore, Clarke,” Lexa explained. “You will have to wait. I promise you, however, that you will like it.”

The blonde arched an amused eyebrow. “Oh will I? Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you, Lexa?”

The brunette shrugged and kissed Clarke’s cheek. “Maybe. But I like to think that I know you and this seems to be the perfect date to take you on.”

Clarke stopped, making Lexa stop as well, and the two girls stood before each other, blue eyes buried into green, smiles resting on the existence of one another. Lexa lifted a hand to stroke Clarke’s cheek and smiled that small smile of hers, tiny but warm, seemingly harmless but able to make the blonde’s legs wobbly.

Clarke wrapped her hand around Lexa’s neck and pulled her in and against her lips. Lexa hugged Clarke’s waist, bringing her even closer. The kiss was innocent but passionate, superficial but lingering enough to express every feeling each was afraid to speak aloud.

When they broke apart, Lexa’s eyes were still closed. Clarke grinned, feeling her insides melt at seeing such beauty and kindness on the features of the woman before her.

“See you on Saturday,” she winked and dropped a quick kiss on Lexa’s lips.

The brunette stood there, still dazed, watching her leave.

 

****

 

Lexa didn’t even know why she was nervous.

She had hung out with Clarke, laughed, talked, smiled, played, cuddled with her, but somehow none of that seemed remotely comparable to what was about to happen. Granted, she had even straddled the blonde at some point — and been straddled by her — but everything paled in comparison.

Lexa was a wreck and not even Anya’s reasonable words and sound advice seemed to be calming her down.

Lexa was a mess and not even the smooth and soothing music on the radio seemed to be helping her relax.

Lexa was a mess and not even the familiarity of the white front door seemed to be a reassuring sight.

All of that went away when said door opened and Lexa saw Clarke.

Suddenly, all her insecurities seeped away and Lexa felt herself in safe and free environment again. She felt at home again.

She was beginning to realise that looking at Clarke felt inexplicably like home, like hot chocolate by the fire on a cold winter afternoon. Like hope and happiness and comfort and— love.

Lexa pushed those thoughts aside and let her eyes shamelessly rake over Clarke’s body.

The blonde was stunning. Not that she had dressed up or put on mind-blowing make-up. Actually, she was dressed and painted elegantly, what with the skinny jeans that hugged her legs in all the right places and a classy loose fitting white shirt, but also quite simply. And maybe it was that simplicity that really struck Lexa.

Clarke never looked as beautiful as when she was utterly herself.

Finally breaking the silence, Lexa’s words were dazed and difficult to pull out. “You look beautiful… Clarke.”

The blonde grinned and stepped forward, out of her apartment and into Lexa’s personal space. Neither of them ever really knew what personal space was when it came to the other, so that wasn’t an issue.

The issue was how blue and round and bright Clarke’s eyes were at that moment, begging Lexa to drown in them. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, without a struggle.

“You look beautiful too,” the blonde whispered, her breath hitching on Lexa’s lips, and then she kissed the brunette fondly.

It ended as quickly as it had started and when it did, Lexa took Clarke’s hand and led her downstairs and then out of the building.

Having Clarke’s hand in hers was an enrapturing sensation. The girl’s fingers were silk and fit Lexa’s perfectly, as though they were tailored to interweave at some point in time.

They hopped on the truck, which Lincoln had lent her, and Lexa started it, beginning the drive to the location of their date.

The weather was nice for a late autumn evening. Even though it was a big city, Polis did not suffer from pollution too much and had a strong link with nature. Starry nights were actually a thing in the city, not just the outskirts of it.

Lexa was brought back to reality by the first strums of the guitar and she rolled her eyes so far back that for a second she thought they might not come back to the front.

“Seriously, Clarke?” She hoped that she had conveyed enough annoyance into the question.

_Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago._

She presumed to have failed, as Clarke’s grin was one of the brightest the blonde had ever managed. “I’m just putting on the music you love,” the girl said innocently.

“No. You are teasing me.”

_I guess you didn't care and I guess I liked that._

 

Clarke shrugged and, as if it were even possible, smiled even more widely. “Come on, I made this playlist as soon as I got home last week, just for you.”

_And when I fell hard you took a step back._

“Remember to never tell you anything again,” Lexa concluded and shook her head, though she couldn’t quite contain the smile that seemed to want to force its way into her lips. “And I do not like Taylor that much.”

_And he’s long gone when he’s next to me…_

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Swiftie,” Clarke scoffed and earned a scowl and an eye roll from Lexa. Still, once again the brunette smiled despite herself. “Now sing with me, Lex!” The song entered the chorus and Clarke sang freely along with it, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in… So shame on me now!”

Lexa kept on driving, eyes dangerously averting to Clarke as the girl sang her lungs out, the truck cutting the night sky as they headed out of the city.

“Clarke, can you please make a little less noise? You’re probably scaring off every living creature around here.”

The blonde laughed. “Are you saying I’m a bad singer?”

“No, quite the opposite,” Lexa denied quickly. “The volume, however, would scare the spookiest ghost.”

“Sing with me and I’ll shut up.”

The brunette sighed, half amused, half exasperated. “Clarke, I can’t sing.”

“So what? This isn’t American Idol, it’s a date,” the blonde laughed and leaned over the handbrake to plant a kiss on Lexa’s cheek. “Besides, it’d be good to know right away if I should find ways to shut you up every time you start to sing.”

“Very funny, Clarke.”

“So what’s it gonna be, Lex?” Clarke smirked widely. “You sing or I scream?”

Lexa heaved a defeated sigh. “You can sing as loud as you wish.”

To be fair, this war had been lost the moment Clarke had kissed her cheek.

 

****

 

The truck finally pulled to a stop and Clarke took a moment to turn off the music and take in the surroundings, which she had completely ignored in favour of singing and staring unabashedly at Lexa while the brunette drove. She almost lost her breath.

They were at the top of a hill, looking down at Polis and surrounded by nature. Lexa got out of the truck and Clarke followed, becoming even more amazed at the landscape before her eyes, stripped of any windshields and filters that might taint its beauty.

“Wow,” was all she could muster for a long while.

Lexa turned to her and she couldn’t decide which was brighter, the stars in the sky or those in the green eyes of the woman she cared about. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Clarke declared. “It’s beautiful. How did you find this? And how didn’t I know about it?”

Lexa chuckled and took Clarke’s hand, making the blonde sigh contentedly. “Everyone always follows west when getting out of Polis,” she explained. “And when they do take the east route, they always follow the main road. But there is an old, abandoned road, large enough for only one car, that enters the woods and goes up the mountain. I have never seen anyone take it since I have been coming here, which was before my parents even died. A pity, really, because it’s my favourite part of town.”

Clarke took a moment to process what Lexa had told her.

“You came here with your parents?” she finally asked and hoped it wasn’t too sensitive territory.

Lexa smiled with fond nostalgia, casting Clarke’s fears away. “Yes. We came here every month to look down at the city and up at the stars.” The brunette paused for some seconds and then continued, searching for something in the trunk as she spoke, “On second thought, maybe it is good that no one knows this place because it makes it feel sacred. Like only great memories can be built here.” That garnered a smile from Clarke. “My great memories. My parents’ too. And now, hopefully yours as well.”

With that, she produced a picnic basket and walked around the truck, placing it on the bonnet of the vehicle.

Clarke felt indescribable joy pump through her veins. Lexa had gone to all that trouble for her. Lexa had prepared a picnic for her. Lexa had shared her favourite childhood memory with her.

Lexa had trusted her enough to take her to the place she held most dear.

She strode over to Lexa and embraced her tightly, trying to convey her adoration and gratitude. The brunette seemed to be surprised at first, but then returned the hug fully.

“This date could end right now,” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s ears, “and already it would have been the best date I’ve ever had.”

The brunette hummed with delight and held her tightly. “Thank you, Clarke.”

They broke off the hug and Lexa sat on the bonnet of the truck, between the basket and an open space, which she patted gesturing Clarke to sit on. The blonde obliged and soon Lexa was taking carton plates, paper napkins and food from the basket.

It felt homely and domestic and as comfortable as Clarke had ever been.

The first thing they tried was leek pie and— oh my. It was absolutely delicious. Clarke practically devoured it; it was probably the best thing she had eaten in her whole life.

Still rejoicing from the extraordinary experience, she turned to face Lexa.

“Did you make this?”

The brunette blushed and Clarke could honestly never get tired of the way her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “Yes.” Then concern took over her eyes. “Do you not like it?”

“What? I love it Lexa, you’re really talented!”

As impossible as it may seem, the girl’s cheeks turned even redder and Clarke was pretty sure that an egg could be fried on top of her ears. “I’m happy that you like it, Clarke. I don’t cook very often, but when I do, I make sure it’s special.”

“Well it is.” The blonde turned back to the view before them and rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “You’re a great cook.”

The brunette chuckled. “You only tried the pie, Clarke. I highly doubt that it’s indicative of my skills.”

Clarke lifted her head off Lexa’s shoulder. “Well give me something else to try then!”

In between rissoles, pie, cake and other divine food, Clarke asked Lexa about how life had been with her parents prior to the accident. Trusting of the blonde, Lexa told her that they were a happy family; her father, Cal, had been an architect and her mother, Daniela (though everyone called her Dany) a florist. Both parents had always been present and caring, her mother a strong but kind force of nature, her dad the quiet type, reserved but always tender.

“You got that from him,” Clarke noted, brushing her lips against Lexa’s.

The brunette narrowed her eyes, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Clarke took Lexa’s hand in both of her own, idly scraping her fingertips over the lines of the palm.

“You are so gentle, Lexa, it’s enthralling how you like to look so fierce but then you’re just this big softie who wouldn’t hurt a fly without a reason.” She then looked up, meeting Lexa’s eyes. “And you’re so tender with me, people might not see that but you are. I know you are. The way your fingers touch my skin like I’m made of silk and the way you kiss me… Like you could break me if you pushed too hard.”

Lexa blinked, clearly surprised at Clarke’s words. “So you do not think I’m a brute?”

The frailty of her voice when she said that made Clarke’s heart ache. How could Lexa think she was a brute when she was as tender as a feather landing on velvet cloth?

“God, no, Lexa,” she denied firmly but with as much compassion in her voice as she could muster. “You’re so kind.” She rested her head on the brunette’s shoulder, still playing with her hands. “Please tell me more about them.”

“We were a quiet but loving family,” Lexa continued with a smile. “My mother was firm like I am now, the one that ruled the household, always making sure I made my homework, didn’t stay too late outside, she taught me to be just and know my priorities but also have mercy. At dinner, she always wanted us to close our eyes and thank for the food, but both my father and I would peek and he would wink at me. I always had to suppress a giggle.

“My mom, however, was the one that hummed and sang to me before bed and she had the most marvellous voice. Sometimes, I was upstairs playing and I would go downstairs and my parents would be dancing to some slow jazz. Both my parents taught me how to love but more so my father. My mother taught me to use my head when I had to make hard choices.

“When I did something wrong, they wouldn’t get too angry. Still, they made me see that there were consequences for every action and a small price to pay. My father taught me to respect. Always respect everyone, be it a homeless man or the Pope. My mom was discipline.” She chuckled then, making Clarke smile in wonder. “When I was nine, my dad and I built a tree house. Although we still came here every weekend because the sky is clearer, we would stay there for hours at night, gazing at the night sky, and he would tell me all about the stars and constellations. Orion was my favourite. Father always told me that like him, I had a strong spirit. My mother would listen and smile, but then tell us to come in for dinner.

“We were happy. Maybe that is what hurt the most when they died,” she sighed and lowered her gaze. “The fact that I was so happy and in a second it all vanished and I would never be as happy again.”

Clarke took the brunette’s other hand.

“Lexa, look at me.” Reluctantly, the girl obeyed, tentative green merging into blue. “From what I hear, your parents were wonderful and from what I know, you take after them. You are reserved and firm, merciful and respectful, loving and just. You have strict priorities and try to use your head, but never cease to feel and I know you think that’s bad but it’s not. It’s remarkable. You are a remarkable person, Lexa, and it breaks my heart that you don’t think so or that you think you will never be happy again — or worse, that you might think you don’t deserve to. Well let me tell you something: you do.”

Lexa nodded in silence and looked back ahead of them, over the still lit up city. Clarke did so too, enjoying the girl’s company. Even in silence, being with Lexa was one of the best feelings in the world.

After some time, Lexa hopped off the bonnet and walked to the trunk, where she pulled out a cooler, withdrawing two bottles and two slices of lime. Clarke laughed when she saw the label.

“Desperados? Are you?”

As she walked back to the blonde, Lexa rolled her eyes. “It’s a great drink, Clarke.”

Clarke took the bottle that was extended to her and clinked it against Lexa’s. “Whatever you say,” she answered with a wink.

Lexa threw her another eye roll as she sat down on the bonnet. “Here, use the lime,” she said, handing one of the slices to the blonde. “It’s like a magic trick.”

Clarke accepted the offer and snuck the slice in the bottle, making it slide along the neck and into the liquid. Then she took a sip and immediately she could feel the effect. “Oh my god, you’re right,” she exclaimed, wide-eyed. “How did you know about this?”

“A lot of desperate nights downing Desperados,” Lexa smirked and Clarke shook her head with amusement.

“Oh so now it’s a good joke?”

“It’s always a good joke when you’re not the one telling it.”

Lexa’s smirk widened and Clarke laughed. “Touché.”

Some minutes passed, both drinking in comfortable silence, until Clarke broke it in whispers, nodding at the stars.

“Can you teach me about them?”

Lexa looked down at her with a smile. “Of course.” Clarke scooted closer, leaning into the brunette’s body, and Lexa wrapped an arm around the blonde, pointing at the sky with her free hand. “That one is Perseus. See the arms on each side of the body, one of them extending like he’s wielding a sword? Those two are Pollux and Castor, the Gemini. They were the Dioskouri in Greek and Roman mythology, and are said to have been born from an egg. They were the patrons of sailors and are associated with horsemanship.”

“Do you like horses?”

“I love them. I find that when the horse is running, me on its back, I feel complete freedom and an unmatched power. Besides, it looks quite cool,” Lexa added with a chuckle. “Those two are Andromeda,” she pointed at one, “and Cassiopeia,” she completed pointing at another. “They were daughter and mother.”

“Where is Orion?”

Lexa smiled and pointed at a constellation. “Right there. He was a hunter. Its brightest stars are Rigel, a blue-white, and Betelgeuse, a red supergiant. Can you see his belt?” Clarke nodded. “It’s an asterism, a pattern of starts, and consist of three bright stars called Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka. It can also be called the Three Kings of Three Sisters. It’s the easiest way to find Orion in the sky.”

Lexa went on talking about the stars as Clarke listened in fascination. There were so many and Lexa knew all of them, spoke about them with passion, taking occasional sips of her beer and looked at Clarke every once in a while with joy in her eyes, as though she was checking that the blonde was engaged and shared her enthusiasm for the sky. Clarke did, or at least she was beginning to, but most of all she loved watching Lexa talk about it.

“My father told me legends and stories,” Lexa finally said. “But the thing that he used to say that really stood out to me was that one day, if I wished for it hard enough, the sky would bring me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”

Clarke’s heart felt lighter and she smiled. “Has the sky fulfilled its promise yet?”

Lexa looked at her, green eyes boring into blue, and Clarke’s throat suddenly felt dry. “Maybe. I will tell you in a few months.” She then smiled fondly but her eyes darkened. “But if I had to make an educated guess, I would say it has.”

Lexa leaned down to kiss Clarke and their lips met halfway. Slowly, as if they were still exploring, they moved in perfect sync. Lexa’s tongue slid over her lip and Clarke made way for it, sucking it. Lexa’s hand came up to cup the blonde’s face, whereas her other hand sat on the blonde’s waist. Clarke’s arms snaked around Lexa’s neck, one hand weaving in her wild brown curls and the other cupping the nape of the brunette’s neck.

It was a dream, Clarke was sure, how perfectly they fit together. To make their pose less awkward, Clarke hopped onto Lexa’s lap, wrapping her legs around the brunette’s slender waist. Lexa’s hand fell from the blonde’s face to her back and pressed them closer, chest-to-chest, warmth spreading in the lower parts of their bellies.

Clarke bit Lexa’s lower lip, making her moan and soothing it with her tongue right away. Lexa took advantage of the brief pause and descended to Clarke’s neck. The blonde threw her head back, giving her more access. Lexa accepted the offer with pleasure, kissing the expanse of the neck, nipping and licking and making the girl moan. She kissed Clarke’s pulse point, eliciting a particularly deep moan from the blonde.

Lexa chuckled, leaning back to look into the girl’s eyes. “We should do this more often.”

Clarke swallowed around the deep dryness and heat in her throat. “Yes,” she croaked, voice gruff and husky. “But we should stop now. As much as I like taking risks, I would rather not have some random family walking in on us.”

She knew that was a bad excuse; as Lexa had said, no one ever came here. However, the brunette seemed to understand what she was really saying and nodded, a kind smile on her lips.

Clarke didn’t leave Lexa’s lap, though, and held the brunette’s intense loving gaze with one of her own. Lexa was looking up at her, still holding her close, drinking Clarke’s beauty in wonder. Clarke had never felt so beautiful as she saw herself mirrored in Lexa’s stunning green eyes.

Clarke kissed her cheek, trying to give back even a quarter of the affection with which Lexa stared at her, taking a few seconds to detach her lips from the brunette’s soft skin.

At last she ended the kiss, but her lips lingered next to Lexa’s ear. “I will do everything to make you as happy as you used to be,” she muttered, love heavy in her voice.

Lexa looked at her, deep, wondrous and mesmerized, and in that moment Clarke knew she was forgiven.

 

//

 

Lexa stopped the truck in front of Clarke’s building and both girls got out of it without even needing to agree to that.

Once outside, Lexa met Clarke on the walk. “This is you.”

The blonde sighed, reluctant to leave. “Yeah.”

“Thank you for agreeing to this date, Clarke. And thank you for being so superbly you.”

The blonde chuckled. Lexa had a way of complimenting for exactly who she was, no worse and no better, that made Clarke feel like the most precious thing on planet Earth.

It was almost ridiculous how at ease she felt with the brunette. They had only known each other for some months, but already it felt like years, maybe a whole lifetime — perhaps more. Clarke would look into Lexa’s eyes and feel, somewhere deep inside, that maybe this was what ‘soul mates’ were meant to be and what ‘destiny’ felt like. Only that could explain the transcendent, almost mystical feeling she got whenever their eyes met. Like theirs was a story through the ages.

Clarke shook those feelings out of her head. That was not something to dwell on right now. Maybe some other day she would give those theories another thought.

“Thank you, Lexa,” she responded with a kind smile. “You prepared the best date ever.”

“I thought of bringing drawing material too but I honestly don’t know the first thing about it,” Lexa admitted sheepishly. “Not to mention the fact that it would have been hard for you to draw at night.”

That elicited a raspy laugh from the blonde, who dropped a light kiss on the brunette’s lips. “Stop worrying, Lexa, it was perfect.”

Lexa smiled her half-smile, the one that made Clarke’s heart want to jump out of her chest. “I should go then.”

Clarke nodded but didn’t want to let her go without saying one last thing.

“I know we don’t need to talk about this,” she started hesitantly. “But I’d like you to know that there is not a thing in the world that I want more than to spend the night with you.” She saw Lexa’s pupils dilate and her throat move as the girl swallowed. “But I need to wait.” Lexa’s eyes turned green again. “I just need to make sure it’s—“

“I know,” the brunette interrupted with the softest voice Clarke had heard from her and took the blonde’s hands. “Do not worry, Clarke. I will wait as long as it takes.”

Lexa wasn’t smiling, but Clarke knew she was, as confusing as that might sound for anyone that wasn’t them.

Clarke rose to her toes and kissed Lexa tenderly. She knew that Lexa knew that this was her unspoken ‘thank you’. A smile flourished on the brunette’s lips.

“I really, really, really, really like you, Clarke.”

“Be careful, Lexa, two more and it’s love,” the blonde said and dropped another swift kiss on the girl’s lips.

“Hopefully the day will come when I say the six.”

Lexa kissed Clarke’s forehead and turned to leave, throwing a wave and a soft smile to the blonde over her shoulder.

As she watched Lexa drive away, Clarke heaved a dreamy sigh. How could she feel so much already for someone that she only now had had her first date with?

She was already concocting a date to take Lexa on when she opened the door to her apartment, silent like she had expected. Raven had spent the night at Anya’s and Octavia no longer lived there, though she spent so much time in that apartment still that it almost felt as though she had never left.

Clarke closed the door to her bedroom, lying on the bed for just a moment before she would eventually get up to undress and put on her pyjamas. She looked at the ceiling. Lexa was so amazing. Just— so amazing. And Clarke had her all for herself.

Her phone buzzed and the screen lit up. Clarke pulled it out of her pocket and read the new message.

 

**Lexa [1:12]: The sky has fulfilled its promise.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't get the Thomas/Jane thing: it's from the film Blow-Up from Antonioni. A masterpiece. Go watch it :)
> 
> I promised all fluff and even gave you two big kisses. Don't tell me I'm not your friend ;)
> 
> Also, this chapter has exactly (according to Microsoft Word) 9,000 words. Hope you enjoyed them!
> 
> UPDATE: I made some minor corrections, like a sentence that was missing (wtf?), nothing you should worry about.


	15. the explorers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will do everything in my power to be the perfect girlfriend on Saturday.”  
> “Only on Saturday?” Clarke scoffed.  
> “Perfection does not actually exist, Clarke,” Lexa remarked solemnly. “It can be recreated for a purpose and a few hours, though.”  
> Clarke kissed her tenderly and rested their foreheads together. “Just be yourself. That’s the definition of perfect to me.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke finally breaks but Lexa is there to catch her fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where you will fall hopelessly in love with Lexa Woods. She's so amazing. Also the chapter where we will delve deeper into Clarke's insecurities. I think you will get to know her completely. She's so wonderful too.
> 
> It's so easy to write a story like this when Jason has given us such brilliant characters to work with.
> 
> Also: this time, it's kind of mild. Next time I won't be so gentle and shit ;) oh and I probably suck at this xD
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd and I will review in the morning — so if you find any gross mistakes or stuff that doesn't make sense, *please* tell me.

“Clarke, you’re being stupid as fuck. Or as the kids on Tumblr these days would say, stupid af.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “You do remember you’re one of ‘the kids on Tumblr these days’, right?” she asked, using air quotes.

“Yeah, but in real life I have to be condescending about it so people won’t actually think I have an account there,” Raven explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Which you do,” Jasper intervened.

He and Monty had dropped by to watch a movie, a little group hangout so Clarke could relax before the big day.

“Can we please return to the matter in discussion?” Raven rebutted. “You’re going to be fine.”

Clarke sighed. “I don’t know Raven, I don’t feel like we’ve been training enough.”

“Yeah, that’s what you two get for being so horny.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Does your girlfriend know you have Tumblr?” she counterattacked.

“Yeah, she caught me the other day staring at a picture of Natalie Dormer,” the mechanic shrugged. “She’s blonde, beautiful and smart, just like Anya. Sue me, I have a type.”

“That’s my type too,” Jasper chimed in.

“Every woman is your type, nerd.”

“My type has a penis,” Monty declared quietly, distracted as he was fixing the TV remote.

Clarke laughed and turned back to Raven. “I bet Anya wasn’t too happy.”

 _You should be looking at pictures of me instead_ , Anya had said with one of her dirtiest smirks. They had obviously proceeded to take their debate to the blonde’s bed.

Raven shrugged with a smirk of her own. “Could’ve been worse. But we’re digressing again, Clarke,” she groaned with annoyance. “Look, you’ve been working on this assignment for how long? Three months?”

“Yes, roughly.”

“And you finished it ahead of time so you could start preparing the presentation sooner than predicted, right?”

Clarke shrugged with a single shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Then you’re more than ready!” Raven exclaimed. “You both are.”

Monty and Jasper hummed in agreement.

Clarke heaved a sigh, still worried but a bit more relaxed. “I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not? You’ll blow those suckers away tomorrow.”

“Thanks Rae,” Clarke chuckled. “And Monty and Jas.”

The door of the apartment opened and neither had to turn to know who was coming. Or the voice that immediately made itself heard.

“Alright bitches,” Octavia announced, dropping her keys on the bowl and her bag on the couch. “I need your help.”

“Why did we let her keep her key?” Raven asked Clarke, ignoring the newcomer.

The blonde shrugged. “No idea.”

“Stop ignoring me,” Octavia whined. “I really need your help!”

Clarke sighed impatiently, heading to the couch, and Raven followed. “Fine, tell us what super dramatic tragedy just happened,” the blonde asked as she plopped down on the cheap couch.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “This is serious, Princess Boring.”

“Then tell us,” Raven incited with a smirk. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

“Lincoln wants me to meet Indra.” Clarke and Raven shared a concerned look, Jasper and Monty gasped. “Have you met her yet, Rae?”

The mechanic shook her head. “Not really. And I wouldn’t be lying if I said I’m not terrified of the idea.”

“Indra can’t be that bad, guys,” Clarke reasoned. “She brought them up after all.”

“No, she made them tougher,” Octavia corrected. “She’s the one who taught them how to fight, remember?”

“Yeah, as well as the one who took them in,” the blonde argued again.

“I bet she’ll hate me,” Octavia groaned, falling on the couch on top of her friends, who squeaked in pain. “I bet she’ll think I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Raven told her.

“Yes, but she’ll think I am.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. Octavia had always had a flair for the dramatic.

“Or maybe she’ll admire your strength and teach you martial arts,” Monty suggested, always kind.

“Doubt it,” the girl retorted, sitting up on Raven’s lap and throwing her hands in the air. “I’m doomed, guys. My relationship with Linc is doomed. The _world_ is doomed!”

It was Raven’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Look, just go there, be confident and be yourself,” she advised. “At the end of the day, Lincoln will still love you regardless of how much Indra accepts you. Would it be better if she liked you? Of course it would. But either way, your relationship with Lincoln will only come out stronger.”

Octavia turned to stare at the mechanic, amazed at her words. “You’re a genius.”

“I know,” Raven confirmed with a smug grin. “And since when did I become the love guru?”

“Since you started dating Anya,” the small brunette stated. “Cold, scary, untouchable Anya.”

“Lexa’s the ruthless leader,” Raven contested.

“Yeah but Anya’s the scary one,” Clarke chimed in with a smile, siding with Octavia.

“Lexa makes me want to pee,” Jasper pried. “Anya makes me shit my pants on the spot.”

“Ew Jasper, TMI,” Clarke groaned, completely disgusted.

“You guys love teasing me but she’s actually a really sweet person. In her own way.”

“Her own murderously staring way, you mean,” Octavia rectified.

Clarke felt it was time to aid Raven’s cause. “Look, all we want is for her to make you happy. And she does. That’s what really matters.”

The mechanic gave her an acknowledging smile. “Thanks, C.”

“But she’s still scary,” the blonde added with a laugh.

“As annoying as it is, I’ll take that compromise,” Raven conceded. “Now what does _your_ girlfriend have going for her?”

That was easy. “She’s gentle,” Clarke answered simply and the mechanic gagged.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Octavia asked in her signature off-colour fashion.

Clarke just smiled. She didn’t expect the others to understand. Her girlfriend was the gentlest person she had ever met. No one else had to know what that meant.

 

****

 

Luna still lived with Indra. She had preferred to not move out, knowing it would be easier to share the rent with the older woman. Besides, Caris and Emori were there too, so it wasn’t like she was alone — not to mention that the former was Luna’s best friend and confidant and the one who helped her get over a pretty tough breakup three years ago.

Lexa knew all that because she cared about Luna deeply. They were friends as well as family and Lexa would never purposefully do anything to hurt the girl.

However, she had hurt Luna’s feelings and it was time to solve that problem.

Lexa was now facing the door to Indra’s apartment, still unsure of what to say and if Luna would let her talk at all. She knocked tentatively and straightened her back. It was time to show strength and firmness, just as once her mother and later Indra had taught her.

The door opened, revealing Indra’s stony features. The woman held the door firmly like a weapon and looked down at Lexa.

“ _Heda_.” That was Indra’s name for the girl, one the woman had given her a long time ago and to this day, Lexa had no idea what it meant. “You came to talk to Luna, I presume.”

“Yes, Indra,” Lexa confirmed with a nod. “It is good to see you.”

The woman smiled almost invisibly and Lexa knew that was her way of showing affection and telling her foster children that she loved them. It would be perceived as cold to the uninformed watcher, but those that belonged to the family knew it was incredibly warm.

Indra nodded. “It is good to see you too, _Heda_.”

She turned away and walked back to her study, Lexa presumed, leaving the girl to close the door and look for Luna.

Lexa supposed the girl was in her bedroom and as she treaded down the hall to her destination, she realised her guess had been correct.

She knocked on the close door.

“Who is it?”

She inhaled deeply and steeled her voice. “Lexa.”

“Oh,” Luna muttered dryly from the other side of the door. “Come in. I guess.”

Lexa exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised to be holding. She opened the door and entered Luna’s room.

The girl was sitting cross-legged on her bed, arms folded on her chest, a hostile expression on her face. “What do you want?”

Lexa clenched her jaw. “I want to talk.”

Luna huffed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. And I wish to talk about it.” She paused before finishing. “Clarke.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want, Commander.”

“Please, Luna. I never wanted to hurt you.”

The dark-haired girl let out a laugh. “Hell is full of good intentions, Lexa.”

“I know I was a hypocrite and I should have come clear right away about my feelings for Clarke. Still, I really meant it when I said that you would get hurt if you continued with the deal you had with her.”

“And you wouldn’t?”

“I never made a ‘just sex’ deal, Luna. Actually, I never made a deal at all.”

“And yet she fell in love with you,” the girl answered with a mock pout. “Because you’re special. And you two are soul mates. How sweet.”

“I didn’t wish for this to happen,” Lexa countered in a harsh tone. “I was content watching her from the distance. You know what happened with Costia, I would have been more than happy if nothing materialised between Clarke and I.”

“Then why did you push it?”

“I did not! That’s the thing, Luna, I did not. We were paired up for an assignment, grew closer and Clarke started liking me but I never consciously did anything to seduce her.”

“I could have been in your place,” Luna mumbled bitterly.

“Yes, you could have,” Lexa admitted. “And for that I am sorry. But you also could have not. Who is to say that it would have worked out between you and Clarke? The possibilities are infinite; your agreement could have torn you apart instead of bringing you closer. And I am sorry to tell you this, but I do not believe that it would have worked out between you two.”

“Oh, because you’re special?”

“No, because Clarke and I are special. Clarke would call it luck, I like to credit destiny,” Lexa mused dreamily. “Whatever the reason, though, what we have feels unique, extraordinary. I hate to sound presumptuous or conceited, but the truth is that I find it hard to believe that you would have reached the same result.” Seeing the anger that was beginning to show on Luna’s expression, Lexa kneeled down before her and took her hands. Her voice became softer. “Luna, my dear. Remember when Indra taught us all about the universe and its ways? When we would all talk at night about destiny and rebirth and how everyone had a purpose? No one else believed it, not even Anya, Lincoln or Emori, but we did.

“You and I knew that one day the universe would show us the way, gift us with something so extraordinary that it would be impossible not to read the signs. Clarke is my extraordinary,” she confessed, closing her eyes for just a moment to recall the blonde’s face. “One day you will find yours, that much I know for sure, but the way I feel around Clarke… I could die a thousand times and surely each time I reawakened I would find my way back to her.

“I know this is something that speaks to you and you know that I could never lie to you about it. You are my sister, Luna. The last thing I would ever want to do it hurt you. However, what Clarke and I have, this is the kind of calling that we used to dream about.”

Luna’s hard lines softened and her blue eyes became more loving again, a sentiment that Lexa revelled in. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Lexa hesitated, feeling self-conscious. “Maybe not, but I l—“ she paused, well aware of what had almost come out of her lips and its implications. As much as she would like to complicate it, it was dreadfully simple. “I am absolutely sure.” It was true. “I love her,” she breathed out, and all of a sudden everything was clear.

Lexa wouldn’t be lying if she said it didn’t scare her, though.

Luna pulled her up and embraced her, granting forgiveness. “You need to tell your girlfriend that she’s not giving you enough hugs,” Luna chuckled. Lexa smiled and returned the affection.

One more obstacle had been vanquished.

 

****

 

“Lexa, I don’t care that it’s a fucking school day. We have to celebrate.”

Clarke, who was walking to the city hall to meet her mom, heard a sigh on the other end of the line and could picture Lexa massaging her temples trying to remain calm.

 _“I never said that we couldn’t celebrate it, Clark_ e,” the brunette responded with annoyance. _“It’s our one-month anniversary, of course I want to celebrate it with you.”_

“Then let’s take the whole day for ourselves, babe!”

 _“There are ways to celebrate which do not include skipping classes. Unlike you, I actually like PoliSci.”_ The line fell silent. _“Shit, Clarke, I’m sorry, I did not mean to—“_

“Save it, Lexa, you’re right,” Clarke shrugged, albeit not withholding the bite in her tone. “You’re the teachers’ pet.”

_“Clarke, you know I did not mean it like that.”_

“Whatever,” she dismissed. “Just be there tomorrow at eight, will you?”

Lexa sighed in defeat. _“I will. Bye Clarke. And I’m sorry.”_

Clarke didn’t respond, hanging up instead. She knew it was a petty and pretty sad vengeance, but she still felt some pleasure in doing it.

As she climbed the steps to the city hall, Clarke made a mental list of what she had to do there. Meet her mom, give her the documents she had asked for, and make plans for dinner on Saturday. Easier thought out than done.

Finding Abby’s office was as easy, entering it and getting out of there alive was the real challenge. She knocked on the door and waited for permission to come in, which came right after.

When Clarke entered, Abby looked up from her paperwork and over the rim of her glasses. “Hi honey,” the woman greeted with a smile.

“Hey Mom. I’ve got the stuff you asked for.”

Abby got up from her chair and circled the table to give her daughter a hug and a kiss, which Clarke returned.

“Thank you sweetie,” Abby took the papers her daughter extended to her. “How was your day?”

“The usual,” Clarke shrugged. “PoliSci still sucks.” The mother rolled her eyes at that but opted to ignore. “Oh and I’d like Lexa to come over to dinner on Saturday.”

Abby hesitated, trying to curb her distaste of her daughter’s girlfriend. “I don’t know if—“

“Come on Mom, it’s a great opportunity to grill her like you did last time, I bet you’d love to,” Clarke goaded.

“I did not ‘grill’ her, Clarke. I just asked her a few questions.”

“About her dead parents.”

“I didn’t know they were dead, did I?”

“Still grilled her.”

Abby heaved an aggravated sigh and Clarke understood that she should have her mother on her side rather than irritate her.

“Look, I just want you to meet her again,” she said, trying to placate Abby.

“I have met her since you two started dating.”

“I know, but officially, as my girlfriend, in an environment where she has the chance to impress you.”

Abby grudgingly accepted with a nod. “Fine. But don’t expect me to fall in love with her.”

“I know, that’s what I’m here for,” Clarke replied with a grin.

Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes. Her daughter loved having that effect on her. She went back to her side of the desk and sat down.

“Anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yep,” Clarke nodded. “I was talking with Lexa—“

“Aka the possessor of universal truth, yes?”

Clarke did her best not to roll her eyes. She failed. “As I was saying, I was talking with Lexa and Mom, PoliSci sucks,” she groaned.

Abby took off her glassed and lay them on the desk. “PoliSci is important, Clarke.”

“But I hate it, Mom!” the blonde complained, sitting on the chair opposite her mother’s. “Believe me, I love sharing classes with Lexa and making assignments with Lexa and basically just be around Lexa all the time, but I really hate the major…”

“Surprisingly enough — or maybe not — Lexa is the downside of that major if you ask me,” Abby said with a tight-lipped smile. Clarke made a face.

“Look Mom, I don’t ever want to be in your place,” the girl explained. “I want to be a doctor and make some art, but I don’t want to be a politician. I know you dreamed that I’ll be one, but I won’t.”

“Never say never, Clarke.”

The blonde crossed her arms and pouted. “That’s a paradox and it’s stupid. You know what else is stupid?”

“Your refusal to do what is expected of you? Your obvious rebellion against everything that I say is right for you? Your relationship with Lexa?”

“PoliSci,” Clarke declared, hoping to have cut off her mother’s rant.

“It’s not stupid, Clarke, and you know it. You need it to grow up and become a leader.”

“What if I don’t want to be a leader?”

“You already are, sweetie.”

“Then I clearly don’t need the major for that,” Clarke proved her point.

“Clarke,” her mother stood up and so did the blonde and the two women faced each other. “You have to trust that I know what’s right for you.”

The girl lowered her gaze with a hopeless sigh, defeated.

“Okay Mom,” she mumbled. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am. This is good for you, politicians are leaders and you were born to be one, to lead the people and guide them to a brighter future,” Abby enlightened kindly and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind Clarke’s ear. “You’re so young, there’s no need for you to be making those choices. So you can trust me to make them.”

Clarke nodded, relenting. “Thanks Mom.”

Abby smiled fondly. “Anytime, my dear.”

Clarke nodded and turned to leave the office but stopped before opening the door. “Remember dinner on Saturday with Lexa, Mom.”

“Don’t worry sweetie. I’ll be there.”

Clarke opened the door and left, closing it behind. She walked out of the city hall, still thinking about Lexa and her mother. Abby disliked Lexa irrationally and it was annoying because the woman just wouldn’t accept her girlfriend. She also let her thoughts travel to the way Lexa had inadvertently touched a sensitive point saying Clarke didn’t like PoliSci. The blonde had got mad but the truth was that Lexa had been right. She hated it.

“Hey Clarke!” She turned around to find Lincoln coming down the stairs of the city hall to meet her. “Came to visit your mom?”

“Hey Lincoln,” she greeted, giving him a brief hug. “Yeah. Ever the pleasant trip,” she quipped with an irony-heavy tone.

The burly man chuckled. “I can imagine from what Octavia tells me.”

Clarke wasn’t even surprised or annoyed. It felt good to have Lincoln’s understanding. “What are you doing here? Everything alright?”

“Yes, I was just checking some stuff for Indra actually. Did you know Octavia is meeting her this week?”

“Yeah, she told me about it,” she smiled politely, trying not to disclose too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned in a lower voice.

“You already did,” Clarke joked. “Of course you can, Lincoln,” she added seeing his embarrassment.

He hesitated to continue. “Did Octavia seem worried or happy about it?”

Clarke could have told him the truth. She really could have. However, seeing his hopeful, sheepish smile she just couldn’t shatter his expectations.

“Yeah, sure,” she lied shamelessly with a wide grin. “She was super excited.”

Lincoln deflated, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Thanks a lot, Clarke.” He hugged her, perhaps a bit too tightly for the safety of her lungs and thoracic box, and then surprised her. “Now what is worrying you, Clarke?”

The girl’s eyes widened. Had she been that obvious? Or was Lincoln a perceptive person? She settled for a mix of the two.

“I— I don’t know how to explain,” she started uncertainly.

“Try me,” he pushed her and gave her a big, warm smile. “Octavia is my girlfriend, I’ve dealt with pretty big and/or confusing stuff.”

Clarke chuckled and realised that Lincoln was more perceptive and empathetic than she had previously given him credit for. He had managed to lower her walls with a simple comment.

“I hate PoliSci,” she finally explained. “My Mom convinced me to do the major and I went along with it, but I hate it. And she says it will help me be a leader and realise my potential, and I agree because there’s so much pressure always on my shoulder and everyone always expects me to make decisions for them, but I just— I hate PoliSci, you know?”

Lincoln smiled and Clarke knew she had a friend she could talk to in him.

“I get it, Clarke. I get your mother too and why you agree with her. But I’ve learned from watching Anya and Lexa and I can tell you that things are not always that linear,” he argued. “Anya is the oldest, but everyone looks up to Lexa. Something happened at some point that I can’t exactly tell you about and yes, that was the turning point, but it was always there, just waiting to come out in the open. Like Lexa’s sexuality,” he joked fondly and even managed laugh out of Clarke. “What I mean is, just because it’s logical that Anya would be the leader, just because she holds the title that would make her so, it doesn’t mean that she is one. A lot of politicians aren’t leaders. A major doesn’t give you that— aura, maybe?” he shrugged, at a loss of words. “I don’t know, that _thing_ that you look at someone and say, ‘that person is a leader’. You have that, Lexa has that. I don’t,” he chuckled. “Thankfully.”

“So you don’t think I need PoliSci?”

“Not at all,” he smiled with a shake of his head. “A leader isn’t just the one that governs others. You can be a leader in your everyday life and at your job without ever having to hold the title.” Clarke nodded in agreement. “A PoliSci certificate, unless you really want to be a politician — like Lex does — is nothing more than a fancy piece of paper saying you have the skills to lead. You of all people don’t need it for that to be true.”

Clarke mused on his words for some time. She would never be a politician, that wasn’t her calling. She wanted to be a doctor, head of surgery maybe, but nothing related to politics. Why, then, do something she didn’t like doing just for the sake of saying that she _could_ be a politician if she wanted to — when she didn’t even want to be one?

She nodded to herself, a decision forming in her mind. “Thanks, Linc. You were great help,” she smiled and hugged him. “I appreciate it.”

He smiled back and shrugged his huge shoulders. “Don’t worry, Clarke. Anything for my friends.”

As they parted ways, Clarke checked her phone for new messages. There was one from Lexa and she read it immediately.

 

**Lexa [18:21]: I’m sorry for earlier, Clarke. I did not mean to presume anything, much less make you sad.**

 

She smiled, thinking she had the best girlfriend in the world, and typed out a reply.

 

**Clarke [18: 57]: you didn’t do anything wrong, Lex. I’m the one who’s sorry. I reacted poorly because you said nothing but the truth and it was inconvenient to hear. Have some big news for you btw, see you tomorrow <3**

**Clarke [18:58]: ps I’m totally baking some treats for after we crush that presentation. We’ll head to mine after class. Prepare to have your stomach destroyed ;)**

**Clarke [18:59]: you’ll probably get an ulcer**

**Lexa [19:02]: I can barely contain my excitement**

****

 

“Lincoln is my best friend, but also a romantic.”

“Wow Lexa, curb your enthusiasm,” Clarke answered sarcastically with a scowl and an eye roll.

The brunette sighed. “I am not saying I do not support your decision,” she explained. “To lead well, you must make hard choices. That applies to life too. Before you make a decision, you have to be absolutely sure that you will not regret it a few years down the road.”

“I won’t, Lexa. I hate this major.”

“Do you hate this major or the idea of becoming your Mother?”

Lexa regretted her words as soon as she said them. Clarke wasn’t too happy about them either.

“You said it yourself yesterday, I hate this shit.”

“Again, I am not saying you shouldn’t give up on PoliSci,” Lexa said softly. “But you are a semester away from finishing it, is it really worth it?”

Clarke smiled fondly. “I am not happy doing this, Lexa. I could be two days away from completing it and I’d still want to drop out. Believe me, the idea of spending more time with you is the _only_ thing that still motivates me to be here. Besides, it’s harming my grades on the majors that I genuinely love.”

Lexa nodded. It was not a decision to make lightly but Clarke was, ultimately, the one that had to make it. “I just want you to think about it, strategize, make sure it’s the right plan of action.”

Clarke chuckled and hugged her girlfriend by the waist. “Okay, warlord,” she teased lovingly. “Just remember this is not some middle age intrigue plot. It’s college, not a battle.”

“Life is a battle, Clarke,” Lexa reasoned seriously.

“I know,” the blonde nodded against the brunette’s chest. “And I’m trying to find the time and motivation to fight on every front.”

Lexa leaned back, slightly away from the hug, and held Clarke’s chin in her hand. “Then I fully support your decision,” she declared with an adoring smile. “Just— after the presentation?”

Clarke laughed and Lexa still found it the most wonderful sound in the world. “Of course, dum-dum.”

The blonde kissed her lips chastely but tenderly and Lexa knew that she never wanted to lose the golden-haired girl that never ceased to make her smile.

 

//

 

The presentation had not just run smoothly — it had been a roaring success. Both girls had been ready and well prepared, and Jaha had been impressed. Another major obstacle had been overcome with distinction.

They were now celebrating at Clarke’s apartment and the blonde had not been wrong — Lexa could feel her stomach contract severe and irreversible damage from those… ‘pastries‘ Clarke had made.

Still, the brunette couldn’t help but smile as the girl opened a bottle of champagne, smiling and radiant, and nothing suited her better than happiness. Lexa, on the other hand, limited her activity to staring and smiling at her girlfriend like a fool in love — which she was.

Eating those poor excuses for pastries almost felt like a gift. Almost.

“And you were so amazing, Lex,” Clarke was saying, fantasising, exaggerating the quality of the brunette’s performance so much it would have been laughable if Lexa herself wasn’t hanging on to every word the blonde said. “You just belted out all those concepts and theories and God, I couldn’t be more proud because you just _killed_ it.”

The penultimate word had been adorned with a kiss to Lexa’s lips.

“It was nothing special, Clarke.”

“Shut up, you’re amazing,” the blonde countered and stuffed a cupcake — or whatever that was — into Lexa’s mouth.

The brunette had no choice but to eat it. With effort, though she would never show it.

Knowing that if she had to eat one more of those things she would probably vomit, Lexa stood up and took Clarke’s hands in hers, spinning her around and pulling her to the bedroom.

“You know where we could resume this shameful flattery of each other?” she asked while peppering kisses on Clarke’s cheeks, forehead and nose.

The blonde’s gaze darkened all of a sudden. “I like the way you think, Commander.”

Lexa smirked, crossing the threshold to Clarke’s bedroom. “There is a reason that they gave me that moniker, after all.”

A celebration was always a good reason to get… celebratory. With nearly a month checked off the calendar, Lexa was beginning to think that maybe it was a good time to start getting intimate with Clarke. She would never press the blonde or push her to do something that she wouldn’t want to do, of course, but she also knew that Clarke was as eager for it as her.

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist and pulled her close, beginning a passionate kiss. The blonde’s tongue demanded entrance and the brunette was quick to allow it in, sucking on it and initiating a dance inside their mouths that was soon broken off so that Lexa could kiss and suck at the blonde’s neck. Clarke moaned deeply, her heart pumping inside her chest and screaming for Lexa, _wanting_ her. She was hungry and impatient, though, so she pushed the brunette’s face back up by the chin and recommenced their blazing kiss.

As they got closer to the bed, Lexa spun them around again, now having the back of Clarke’s knees touch the edge of the bed. The blonde lay on the bed and Lexa climbed on top of her, legs straddling thighs, never breaking the kiss, and placing her hands on each side of the girl’s head to support herself.

Lexa descended from the blonde’s lips once again, kissing a line down her neck and over her collarbone. Lexa kissed and nibbled at the crook of her neck, leaving soft red smudges that would certainly darken later.

Clarke was a moaning mess, tugging at the brunette’s hair, motivating her to continue her scavenging.

With a smirking look up at the blonde, Lexa kissed the skin over her heart, going as far down as the buttons allowed. Her hand, however, was quick to graze up and then down Clarke’s side, and sneak under the shirt to find her lace bra, fingers scraping over dark fabric and perked nipples.

Clarke’s subsequent moan was all the incentive she needed to work her hand under the bra and caress the blonde’s breasts, her lips kissing just over the cleavage of the shirt.

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke let out, voice hoarse and gruff, out of breath. “Just—“

Lexa grinned widely, perhaps the widest the blonde had seen her smile, and proceeded to oblige to the blonde’s request.

She fumbled with the buttons of Clarke’s shirt, kissing every inch of the newly exposed skin as she managed to expose just a bit more of it each time, until she reached the seam of the blonde’s jeans. Clarke’s hips bucked up, but Lexa just smirked up at her and kissed her way back up the girl’s belly to her breasts, stopping at the edge of the cups of her bra.

Clarke smirked. “Well it’s not quite fair right now, is it?” she asked in a sultry voice and tugged at Lexa’s hair, pulling the brunette up to devour her lips.

As they kissed haphazardly, Clarke dealt with unbuttoning Lexa’s shirt and quickly taking it off. Each girl took a moment to admire the other.

“You are so beautiful, Clarke,” Lexa muttered in awe of the blonde beneath her, dangerous and breath taking.

“You’re gorgeous too, babe,” Clarke returned and pulled the brunette roughly to lay her body on top of her. They resumed kissing, skin-to-skin, chest-to-chest, Clarke enjoying the weight of Lexa on her and the brunette revelling in the feeling of the blonde’s silky skin against her own. It was rough and hungry, as Clarke bit Lexa’s bottom lip then soothed the wound with her tongue and the brunette took the blonde’s hands and pinned them over the head on the bed.

Lexa propped herself up again and her lips travelled away from Clarke’s to focus on the blonde’s still-covered breasts. She could work with that for now. She pressed a thigh between Clarke’s legs, hoping to sate the blonde’s need to some extent, and was rewarded by a sweet roll of hips looking for stronger contact.

Lexa kissed the top of one of Clarke’s round and generous breasts, the only part exposed by the bra, making the blonde whimper at the contact. One hand was holding her weight beside Clarke’s head, while the other entertained itself with the other breast, cupping it and rolling the hard nipple between fingers, pinching it till it indented the fabric of the bra.

She kissed and sucked the other breast above the cup, soothing the spot with her tongue, which then darted down under the bra to graze over the nipple, eliciting a moan from the blonde. Realising that she just _had_ to have full access to her girlfriend’s breasts, Lexa withdrew her hand from under the lace bra and—

“We’re having dinner on Saturday with my Mom,” the blonde blurted unexpectedly.

When Lexa looked up, the look on her face was that of utter confusion. “What?”

Clarke sighed remorsefully. “Saturday. We’re having dinner at my Mom’s.”

Only then did the message start to process in Lexa’s mind. _Saturday. Dinner. Abby. Nightmare._

She sighed loudly, half defeated and half frustrated, and got off of Clarke, collapsing on the bed to the blonde’s left, both looking up at the ceiling.

“Way to ruin the moment,” she breathed out.

The blonde groaned in apologetic desperation. “I know, I’m so sorry, Lex, I’m so, so sorry.”

The brunette took her hand with another sigh, lacing their fingers together, and squeezed it gently.

“Do you always think of your Mother during our make out sessions?” It was a light jest and Clarke knew that.

“Usually I just go over the shopping list for the next two weeks,” Clarke joked and only then looked at Lexa, a smirk on her face. “But this was a pressing matter.”

The brunette chuckled softly and returned Clarke’s gaze with loving green eyes and a smile. “I really, really, really… really, really like you… Clarke.”

The blonde rolled to her side and shifted her upper body weight onto Lexa’s torso. She kissed the brunette’s jawline softly and slowly, taking her sweet time and making the girl’s eyes flutter closed.

“Be careful,” she said as she rested her chin on Lexa’s heart. “That’s five.”

Lexa bent her neck up so as to get a full view of Clarke’s face and smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world. “I know.”

“One more to go,” the blonde said and dropped a feather-light kiss on Lexa’s lips.

“Yes.” Lexa laid her head back on the pillow and returned her gaze to the ceiling. “Now about your Mother…”

“I’m sorry, Lex, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment,” Clarke apologised, even if she knew that she was already forgiven. “It’s just that it’s been on my mind and—“

“Clarke,” the brunette cut her off. “I meant the dinner plans.”

“Oh.” The blonde’s gaze averted to her hands atop Lexa’s chest and then back to the brunette. “Do you mind going?” she asked apprehensively.

Lexa’s stare returned where it belonged, Clarke’s intense blue eyes. “Not at all,” she assured sternly and it wasn’t a complete lie. “It will be a chance to make a new, better, first impression. And if it makes you happy,” she kissed Clarke’s forehead tenderly, “then it makes me happy.”

The blonde nodded and rested her head sideways on Lexa’s chest. “You’re so wonderful,” she whispered and kissed her girlfriend’s exposed skin above the bra. “We look kind of ridiculous like this,” she giggled.

“I would offer to continue, but now I’m pretty sure that my mind would be haunted by images of your disapproving Mother.”

“Gross, babe!” Clarke laughed and playfully slapped Lexa’s belly.

“Your fault,” the brunette shrugged with a smirk. Then she kissed the knuckles of Clarke’s right hand before placing it on her heart. “I will do everything in my power to be the perfect girlfriend on Saturday.”

“Only on Saturday?” Clarke scoffed.

“Perfection does not actually exist, Clarke,” Lexa remarked solemnly. “It can be recreated for a purpose and a few hours, though.”

Clarke kissed her tenderly and rested their foreheads together. “Just be yourself. That’s the definition of perfect to me.”

 

****

 

“Miss Woods.”

“Mrs Griffin. Always a pleasure to see you.”

Lexa had a way of being polite and charging her words with sarcasm that usually turned Clarke on, but this time earned her a glare from the blonde.

Lexa raised her eyebrows innocently at her girlfriend, who shot her another glower from behind her Mother’s back. The brunette ignored the blonde’s warning and directed forcefully smiling eyes at Abby. Her lips did not follow.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you too, Miss Woods,” the older Griffin greeted, perhaps even more unconvincingly than the girl.

“Wow,” Clarke intervened with a scowl, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Thanks for making an effort, guys.”

Abby simply rolled her eyes but Lexa quickly circled her to get to her girlfriend. She pulled Clarke to the side, in hopes of being able to talk to her without the Mother’s intrusion.

“Clarke,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t bother me that you don’t like coming here, it really doesn’t,” Clarke explained. “What bothers me is that I asked you if you minded coming and you said ‘not at all’. You lied to me, Lexa, and I know it’s something small, but I don’t want us ever lying to each other.”

The brunette sighed and nodded her agreement. “You’re right, Clarke, and I’m sorry. It will not happen again.”

“Thank you Lex. I want us to be able to trust one another.”

“I value your trust, Clarke,” the brunette said so honestly, so humbly, that the blonde’s heart ached for having been hard on her.

She smiled, completely lost in her girlfriend’s eyes. “You’re so cute that it’s hard to be mad at you.”

Lexa smiled back, a mischievous spark in her eyes. “I will try to use that for future falling outs,” she whispered and gently joined her lips with Clarke’s.

 

//

 

Lexa was trying so hard to behave that it almost inflicted physical pain on Clarke just from watching.

Abby was being, simply put, a bitch. Everything Lexa said and did had a flaw. The woman did not understand that the girl came from a different environment and had been berating her for insignificant things like holding the cutlery wrong or sometimes — rarely! — speaking with her mouth full for the past hour like they were essential life lessons.

Clarke had sided with Lexa, telling her Mother to relax and not be so hard on Lexa, it’s not like those were mistakes that would make her a lesser person. She was honestly losing her very last bit of patience.

“For haven’s sake Mom!” she exclaimed at Abby’s latest shenanigan. “What the hell?!”

“Clarke, don’t talk to me like—“

“Like what?” she cut her Mother off. “Like you’ve been talking to Lexa this past hour?”

At the mention of her name, the brunette put her hand over Clarke’s trying to calm her down. “Clarke, don’t worry, there’s no need—“

“Yes, there is!” the blonde interrupted. “There is need, Lexa, because you’re my girlfriend and I like you a goddamn lot and my Mom is too blinded by her own privilege to see that and respect you! You’re a human being, not a college certificate!”

This time, Abby intervened. “Clarke, I never said that.”

“Well you’ve been acting like it! I like Lexa,” there was a plea in Clarke’s voice. “Can’t you just accept her as a new part of my life?”

Abby brought the napkin to her mouth and placed it on her lap again. “I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation to be held in front of your girlfriend.”

“Don’t mind me, ma’am,” Lexa replied harmlessly but her voice was muffled by—

“Her name is _Lexa_ ,” Clarke snarled, jolting up. “Since we arrived here, you haven’t said her name once. Lexa might not have as much as we do but at least she’s not corrupted by it like you.”

“Enough!” Both girls froze in shock. “Get out of my house, both of you. Now!”

“What the fuck, Mom?”

“Get out!” Abby growled. “Come back tomorrow, we are going to have a serious talk. And you, _Lexa_ ,” the woman said, emphasising the brunette’s name with venom. “I don’t think there’s any need for you to come back here. Especially after my talk with Clarke tomorrow.”

Clarke felt Lexa stand up next to her and take her hand.

“Let’s go Clarke,” the brunette said, authority in her voice. “It’s not like I was ever welcome here anyway.”

As Lexa led them out of the house, without even sparing Abby a glance or a word, Clarke felt all the emotions no one else ever noticed leaking from the brunette’s hand to hers. It was hurt, it was anger, it was a sensation of disillusion and even, as they walked through the door to the outer world, a frustrated feeling of powerlessness and incapability. An acceptance of one’s weakness. A resignation to one’s shortcomings. A doubt concerning one’s aptitude for the role.

“Lexa,” she called once they were outside, pulling on the brunette’s hand to make her stop. “I meant what I said the other day.” Lexa still wouldn’t look at her and Clarke felt her body still stiff. “You _are_ my definition of perfect.”

Her only reply came in the form of a shake of the head.

“Regardless of what my Mom says, there is no one I would rather be with in the whole world. Okay, maybe a handful of Hollywood actresses,” Clarke joke and felt Lexa’s body relax a bit,” but no one can take me away from you. Or you, from me.”

“You can,” Lexa finally spoke in a small voice.

“I won’t.”

“Your Mother—“

“My Mother is blind,” Clarke stated resolutely. “She doesn’t see what I see. And what I see tells me that I should never let you go. I don’t know what my Mother sees when she looks at you, but she’s wrong.”

Lexa finally turned around, facing the blonde, and her eyes were soft and painful. She shook her head, gaze still glued to the ground.

“She is your Mom, Clarke.”

“So what?” The blonde shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I’m not throwing my happiness away just because my Mom says I should.”

“Mother knows best.”

“Lexa,” Clarke chuckled and caught a loose brown curl, tucking it behind the brunette’s ear. “The mere fact that you’re defending my Mom right now proves that she doesn’t.”

Lexa heaved a sigh and stepped closer to the blonde, breaths blending in the cold winter air.

“Clarke Griffin,” she whispered in a sultry voice, “do you want to spend the night at mine watching Netflix with hot chocolate and fluffy socks?”

The blonde grinned and gave Lexa a chaste kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

****

 

Lexa Woods didn’t like Clarke Griffin.

Lexa Woods loved Clarke Griffin.

That was a fact as true as the sky being blue and the British eating heart attacks for breakfast. It was a fact as false as paellas not being Spanish and the first movies not having been black and white.

So as they lay on the bed, cuddling under the covers, Clarke’s back against Lexa’s front and their hands entwined on the blonde’s stomach, Lexa Woods wasn’t thinking about the fact that once again, they had not had sex or worrying about Clarke’s meeting with her mom the next day.

As they lay in bed, snuggled up against each other under the covers, legs tangled and her nose buried in the blonde’s hair, Lexa Woods’ only thought was _Clarke_.

Clarke and how lucky she was to be sharing a bed with the blonde, to be cuddling with her, to have Clarke’s back pressed against her chest, to have the blonde’s hand on her own, to have her legs tangled in Clarke’s, to be drowning in the scent of her golden hair.

Clarke and how she would have been just as lucky to merely be sitting side by side, their linked hands the only point of contact. Clarke and how se would have been just as lucky to share a simple glance, one of those charged with meaning and promise and secrets and glistening words that both were yet too afraid to say out loud.

Clarke and how lucky Lexa was to be able to bask in her awe-inspiring presence from up close instead of having to admire her from afar.

Lexa felt the blonde’s body wake up and soon later Clarke was turning around and then looking at the brunette, still in a daze from her sleep, and smiling her beautiful sleepy smile that made Lexa’s heart flutter.

“Hey babe,” Clarke greeted groggily.

Lexa smiled back, her heart feeling full with love. “Hello Clarke,” she replied and planted a kiss on her girlfriend’s forehead. “Sleep well?”

The blonde nodded drowsily and Lexa turned to her other side, finding Pauna snuggled up to her. She petted the dog and checked the time.

When she turned back to Clarke, the blonde was no longer on the bed, but on the chair instead, sketchbook and pencil in her hands.

“What are you doing, Clarke?” Lexa asked, confused and with a hint of amusement.

“I want to draw you,” the blonde answered simply with a shrug, starting her work. “You have so much colour.”

Lexa raised a quizzical eyebrow. “That’s a pencil, Clarke. I doubt you will get anything more than black and white.”

Clarke put the pencil down and looked up at the brunette. “You don’t need to paint colour to show it. Your beauty colours the page by itself.”

She returned to her drawing, leaving Lexa as motionless as she was moved by those words. Suddenly, posing for a drawing seemed a lot more appealing.

Watching Clarke draw her was a treat too, with that delicious pink tongue poking out of thin lips pursed in concentration, and a creased brow that Lexa yearned to smooth with a kiss.

Time flew by, Lexa entertained watching her girlfriend draw her, and at some point the blonde’s hand stilled. She looked up at Lexa with a smile, putting the pencil down, and got off the chair, holding the sketchbook close to her chest. She walked to the bed and sat down beside Lexa.

“Are you done already?” the brunette asked curiously.

The blonde nodded and finally showed her the drawing. Lexa’s eyes widened.

Clarke had drawn her in an exquisite way. Clarke had drawn her as an insurmountable beauty, a strong leader, a piece of art in and of itself, kind-hearted and with eyes that expressed her feelings better than her lips.

“Is this how you see me?” she asked, staring at the blonde, her eyes shining with love.

Clarke nodded softly. “And how you should see yourself,” she spoke kindly and leaned against Lexa’s side. “You’re all of this and so much more, Lexa.”

In that moment, Pauna snuck between the two girls and started sniffing the drawing. Lexa quickly snapped it out of the dog’s reach.

“Pauna, no,” she scolded. “You will ruin Clarke’s work.”

The blonde laughed. “It’s okay, Lexa, she’s just sniffing.” Then she gently took the drawing from the brunette’s hands and showed it to Pauna. “See? That’s your owner,” she told the dog. “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?” Clarke then looked up at Lexa. “How did you get her?”

Lexa smiled, first at Clarke and then at Pauna, and started petting the small creature. “Like I told you, I found her abandoned in the street. At first I was just going to take her in for a few days and then hand her to a kennel or the vet. But then she grew on me and I knew that being a small dog she would not eat as much, thus not being too expensive, and I spend a lot of time at home, so she wouldn’t be lonely. Besides, she had been abandoned not too long ago according to the vet and her medical expenses were and are affordable, especially now that I co-own the gym. Anya groaned and complained, but it only took me a week to be sure that Pauna staying here would be a viable option.”

“So you decided to adopt her,” Clarke stated as well as asked and Lexa nodded. “That was very noble of you, Lexa. And responsible.”

Lexa leaned back and lay on the bed, sitting the small dog on her belly. She loved Pauna, in spite of the sacrifices she had had to make to have her.

Clarke lay down next to her, stroking the dog too, and laced their hands together between their bodies.

“Tell me about Costia.”

Lexa glanced at her, more curious than anything, and smiled. “I met her two weeks after Indra took me in,” she told. “I started liking her when we were both fifteen and started dating her when we were sixteen. She was wonderful at first, but in spite of our similar origins and environment, we did not have that much in common. I liked her very much, though, and worked very hard to make her happy. Two years into the relationship, however, she changed. I did not notice that at first, but Anya alerted me to it. But I chose to remain blind,” Lexa heaved a slow sigh. “I shouldn’t have refused to listen to Anya because some months later, Costia told me that she had cheated on me. I forgave her but from then on, things were never the same between us and we broke up eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Lexa.”

The brunette gazed into Clarke’s eyes and there was no regret in her pools green, just a pacific kind of happiness. “I am not,” she spoke kindly. “You should not be either because it led me to you. And I would gladly go through a million heartbreaks if it meant that in the end I could be with you.”

Clarke’s eyes watered ever so slightly and she snuggled up to Lexa, nose nuzzling against the brunette’s neck. “Did you love her?”

Lexa didn’t mind the question. It was natural that Clarke would ask that, seeing that she and Costia had been together for several years.

“I think so,” Lexa nodded slowly. “I thought I did at the time, at least. But,” she hesitated before saying the following words, “the connection _we_ have is different and special. Even when we were most happy, I never felt quite the way I feel with you.”

Clarke raised her face from Lexa’s neck to look at her, her eyes heavy with meaning. “What do you mean?”

Lexa breathed in and out, gathering the courage to continue.

“I love you, Clarke. I know it’s soon and you don’t have to say it back now or ever,” she added, “but I want you to know that and to have that safety net for when times get hard and people doubt what we have. I love you, Clarke Griffin, and I will keep on living you even if you don’t—“

She was cut off by the crash of Clarke’s lips against her own. The kiss was nonetheless gentle, adoring, a taste of what love felt like.

They only separated when both desperately needed some air and their foreheads found each other. Their breaths fused between their lips, eyes were closed and mouths cutting a smile onto each girl’s face.

Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke, keeping her nestled against her torso, and the blonde’s read rested on the brunette’s chest. Lexa sat her chin on the top of Clarke’s head, enjoying the sweet scent of her golden hair.

“I think you need to go talk to your Mother,” Lexa muttered after some silent minutes. Silence with Clarke was never awkward.

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

“I’d rather you stayed here too, but Abby wouldn’t like it if you didn’t go.”

Clarke groaned, her willingness to leave the warmth of Lexa’s body clearly lacking. “But I don’t wanna,” she whined, half playful, half serious.

Lexa chuckled and dropped a kiss on the top of the blonde’s head. “Come on, Clarke. Do not let your Mother have leverage over you.”

“Fine,” the girl relented. “But then I’m totally coming back here.”

“Okay.”

 

****

 

Clarke had come to her mother’s with an open mind. She had wanted to talk, discuss matters like adults, and then make Abby see that her daughter was right and she was wrong. That would have depended, of course, on the mother’s good faith. Obviously, that had not been the outcome.

“I just don’t understand why you would choose her when there’s so many eligible single boys and girls around, honey. Nice catches.”

“You’re saying Lexa isn’t a nice catch?” Clarke echoed, stopping her pacing, and her tone was dangerous.

“She isn’t… Like you,” Abby responded, for lack of a better way to express her thoughts.

Clarke looked at her mother in indignant perplexity. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sweetie, what do you think a poor girl,” the daughter squirmed at the word ‘poor’, “does with a rich girl?”

“Are you saying Lexa’s a gold-digger?”

“I am saying she likely wants to make a better life for herself,” Abby softened the blow. “Even if she has to marry you for that.”

Clarke exploded. “Lexa has never asked me for a penny. She is top of the class in PoliSci and second best in Philosophy. She owns a gym, teaches different kids of martial arts and still finds the time to raise a dog and not slack in her studies. She has reached that better life all by herself with no one’s help, without ever asking for anything from anyone. Not a scent. And you say she’s after my money?”

“Yes.”

“She _loves_ me!” Clarke exclaimed.

Abby scoffed. “And how do you know that?”

“She told me so this morning!”

“To tie you up and make sure you were blind enough by the false admission that you wouldn’t listen to a word I say?”

“No, to reassure me and give me strength for the fuckload of _bullshit_ that you would throw at me!” Clarke yelled out.

Abby laughed dryly at her daughter’s insurgency. “I see she’s done her share of brainwashing. Sooner or later, you will see that I’m right. And that I have nothing but your wellbeing in my mind,” she added as an afterthought.

That was the problem. Clarke couldn’t bring herself to be completely angry with her mother because she knew that Abby’s heart was in the right place. The older Griffin’s sole concern _was_ her daughter’s happiness in spite of her poor methods.

It was neither money nor status, not even a matter of reputation. It was all about Clarke. And the blonde understood her worries; every once in a while, some people would become suddenly very interested in her after knowing she was the Mayor’s daughter.

Still, those worries would have been plausible a month ago, when Clarke and Lexa were beginning and the brunette’s intentions could have been more dubious — not to Clarke, of course, but she wouldn’t rule out the validity of Abby doubting them.

Now, however, their relationship was strong and clearly built on a loving foundation. There was no doubt, whatever glasses you might have on, that Clarke and Lexa cared for each other deeply.

Much less after that morning, when Lexa had made Clarke’s heart skip several bits at those three little words that had turned her world much brighter. Lexa loved her; Clarke had no doubt about it. And she might not have said it back — she might not still feel so deeply — but the blonde liked her girlfriend very, very much too.

“Mom, I’ve told you once and I’ve told you twice, and God knows how many times more,” she resumed, trying to imprint renewed patience into her voice. “Lexa would _never_ come after me for money. She loves me, Mom, and I’m done trying to make you see that. I hope you can open your eyes eventually.”

Abby nodded gravely and Clarke was glad that that topic of discussion was finally over.

“Now let’s discuss your future,” Abby said and her daughter almost wanted to go back to the Lexa subject. “After you’re done with PoliSci and everything else, you will come train under my wing, be my intern and work as an assistant. Then I will call on a favour with Senator Kane and send you to work for him, 2017 will be a big political year and you should learn from the very best. A future candidate for the White House is the very best.” Abby sat at her study desk and looked up at a standing Clarke from her leather wheeled chair. “Then it’s up to you to climb the food chain, but you will have no trouble associating with the right people and making a name for yourself quickly. Almost forgot: you will be working under Congressman Wallace after Kane, he’s the right man to launch you in the world of politics. Connections, Clarke,” she explained. “That’s what gets you everything.”

At her daughter’s silence, Abby changed the trail of conversation.

“Have you received the results for your test the other day?”

“Yes, 95 per cent,” the girl announced proudly but her face fell when she saw her mother’s expression.

“That’s… good, I guess,” Abby said reluctantly. “Your father would have had 100.”

Clarke took a deep breath and tried not to lose control. That was life with her mother. If she’d had 100, the woman would have said she’d done no more than her obligation — maybe ask for 101. “Well, he’s dead. I’m sorry you had to be stuck with the lesser Griffin.”

It hurt that her mother insisted in comparing her to her dad. It reminded her of how painful it was that he was no longer with them. Clarke loved her father deeply and she didn’t want him to be the one whose standard she would never meet. Jake deserved better than that.

“Clarke, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Whatever,” she dismissed coldly. Remembering the other matter she had come here to discuss, Clarke thought it best to rip the band aid, drop the bomb like a trivial piece of paper that had fallen out of her pocket. “I’ve dropped out of PoliSci.”

Abby looked at her daughter in bewilderment. Only some seconds later did she seem to register what Clarke was saying.  Her eyes widened and narrowed right after, red anger climbed up her neck and her lips pursed so tightly that they turned white.

“You… WHAT?”

Clarke was petrified. Abby stood up from her chair and walked around it to meet her daughter in the middle of the study.

“Please tell me I heard that wrong,” Abby asked threateningly, her voice calm and low and sending shivers up Clarke’s spine.

Even so, Clarke steeled her voice and herself and kept her composure, facing her mother, tall and strong, like she never had.

“You didn’t,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I’m giving up on PoliSci and the brilliant career you had all mapped out for me.”

It was the mother’s turn to explode.

“You had no right, Clarke!” Abby berated the blonde. “It’s my money you wasted.”

“I never wanted you to spend that money in the first place, remember?” Clarke remained calm. “You enrolled me in this major yourself without even consulting with me.”

“It was the obvious thing to do, I never thought you would disagree. It wasn’t with the intention of hiding it from you!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Clarke returned with sarcasm. “You need to trust that _I_ know what’s right for me.”

“Why do you never do as I tell you, Clarke? Why do you always feel the need to rebel against my plans for you?”

“Because they’re your plans, not mine!” the girl exclaimed, feeling tears puncture her eyes.

“Because clearly, I know better,” Abby answered swiftly. “Why, Clarke? Why do you refuse to meet the expectations? Why do you never do as I want you to? Your grades are sub-par, you dropped out of the only decent major you were taking, your friends never seem to be up to a standard and now you insist on having a girlfriend that honestly… You could do so much better.”

“She _is_ the best, Mom,” Clarke snarled, unshed tears blurring her vision. “You can search all of America and you won’t find anyone better than Lexa. My grades are top of every single class, even the ones I take on the side. I’m going to Med School, whether you want that or not. And my friends are off-limits, so if you have something against them,” she added knowing it was the final blow, “just shut the fuck up.”

With that, she grabbed her purse from the chair in front of the desk and stormed out of her mother’s house.

_Why, Clarke?_

Why was she never up to anyone’s standards?

_Why do you refuse to meet the expectations?_

Why did she always disappoint everyone? Why did she always fail to be as stellar as everyone expected?

_Why am I never good enough?_

Clarke needed to cry, she needed to scream her lungs out and slay her frustrations. She could have gone to Raven or Octavia, Monty and Jasper or Bellamy. But she didn’t even think of any of them then.

The only person on her mind was Lexa.

 

//

 

The apartment door was already open, with a worried Lexa in an oversized hoodie holding it, when Clarke arrived in front of it.

She crossed the threshold to throw her arms around Lexa’s collar, seeking comfort in her girlfriend’s warmth, and rested her face in the crook of her neck, letting the tears finally flow freely. Lexa wrapped her in her arms, those strong slender arms that Clark loved to be enveloped in, that always made her feel so much stronger.

After some minutes of hugging silence cut only by the occasional sniffle, Lexa extended her arm to close the apartment door. She leaned back from the embrace and took Clarke’s face in her hands, kissing her lips so kindly that the blonde felt like crying again.

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” she spoke softly, breaking off the hug and taking Clarke’s hand.

Lexa guided the blonde to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. She sat down on the bed and sat Clarke on her lap, letting her cry on her neck and shoulder again. She wrapped Clarke in her arms once again and gave her all the comfort and silent time she needed.

At least ten minutes of sporadic sobs passed before the blonde finally spoke.

“It‘s my mom,” she explained in a throaty voice. “She— she’s evil.”

Lexa rubbed comforting circles on her back. “She wants the best for you, Clarke.”

The blonde snorted and lifted her face from the crook of Lexa’s neck. “Her definition of best is the worst.”

Silence ensued and Clarke knew that Lexa couldn’t argue with that. She stood up from the brunette’s lap and started pacing around the room, eyes still puffy and red and cheeks wet.

“I get 95, she wants 100. I’m top of my classes, she wants me to be better than the Professors. I’m great, she wants me to be the best. I’m the best, she wants me to break the scale and be even better,” Clarke rambled furiously. “She’s never satisfied!”

“Your Mother has high standards.”

“Stop defending her, Lexa!” Clarke growled. “You know I’m right! She thinks she’s boss of me, but guess what: she’s not. She may be my mom, but I’m in charge of my future.”

“You are, Clarke. Never doubt that.”

But that wasn’t the issue. That wasn’t the issue and Clarke was dying to talk about the real issue but she couldn’t muster up the courage to do it because she knew that once one of them was out, everything else would follow.

“But why can’t she be happy?” Clarke asked herself and Lexa and maybe the universe, not expecting to get an answer. “Why can’t anyone ever be happy? I’m doing the best I can and yet it never seems to be enough!”

Lexa remained seated, giving her girlfriend space to let all of her troubles out.

“I’m never good enough for her,” Clarke sobbed. “I’m never good enough, fast enough, smart enough, fun enough… Compatible enough,” she hiccupped and let a particularly painful sob tear up her throat. “It’s like everyone is expecting the best of me and I can never live up to it!”

Lexa frowned from her seating spot on the bed. “Clarke, you should not worry about what others expect of you. Sometimes people set unrealistic expectations, yes, but only because they love you and believe you are capable of doing amazing things.”

“Am I really though?” Clarke cried out in despair, throwing her arms in the air and every possible direction, tears sliding down her cheeks again. “Because all I can see is that I’m not fun enough for Octavia, I’m not loose enough for Raven, I wasn’t forward enough for Finn, I wasn’t caring enough for Luna, I probably won’t be smart enough for Med School or talented enough for arts. I’m not enough of a daughter for my Mom and I wasn’t enough to save my dad!” She collapsed onto her knees on the floor and Lexa was quick to kneel in front of her. Clarke’s chin and lower lip trembled, her eyes on hands that no longer felt her own, and her voice broke in a desolate sob. “I’m never enough.”

Lexa placed two fingers under her chin, lifting it gently, and searched for those teary blue eyes that were almost ashamed of letting green find them. “You are more than enough for me.”

Clarke’s gaze finally found Lexa’s and she found hope in them, a silver lining that she never wanted to let go.

When her lips touched the brunette’s, though not chaste, it was the softest and gentlest kiss the two had ever shared, as broken as it was hopeful, both marred and blessed by saline tears and anguished lips. It was slow, comforting and warm, a promise of today and tomorrow, and many days to come. It was safe with a taste of danger; it had wings but flew close to the ground.

Clarke enfolded her arms around Lexa’s neck and sought entrance with a light brush of her tongue against the brunette’s lips, being immediately allowed in.

Lexa placed her hands under Clarke’s thighs, lifting her from the ground, never breaking the kiss. The blonde wrapped her legs around her girlfriend’s waist and Lexa stood up holding up both of their weights.

It was a short and easy walk to the bed, as Lexa was strong enough to easily carry Clarke around. Lexa gingerly laid the blonde on the bed, briefly interrupting the kiss, then straddled her hips and leaned down to kiss her again.

As their lips and tongues danced around each other, Clarke lowered her hands to pull at the hem of Lexa’s hoodie. Parting lips, Lexa removed the sweater, beneath which she was wearing only her bra. Clarke followed, taking off her shirt, and quickly made her way back to Lexa’s lips.

The kiss picked up speed, the rhythm gradually more frantic and passionate, but still as tender as the new dynamic allowed. Lexa lowered her focus, kissing and nipping a trail from right underneath the blonde’s ear to her collarbone, then the expanse of her chest and stopping at the edge of her bra.

Needing to scrape beyond the surface, Clarke brought her hands to the middle of her chest, ready to unclasp the offending garment. However, a hand stopped her. She looked up, finding Lexa’s worrying eyes.

“Are you sure, Clarke?”

The blonde returned her gaze with reverence. “You’re my best friend, Lexa, I trust you completely.”

Nodding almost unnoticeably, Lexa covered Clarke's hands with her own and settled them by the blonde’s sides. She then took it upon herself to unbuckle the bra, doing so with gentle and slow fingers, giving Clarke enough time to change her mind.

Clarke didn’t though, and soon the bra was being tossed to the side and Lexa’s eyes were deferentially admiring her breasts and then her eyes and her lips and again her chest, in awe of such beauty.

“You are so beautiful,” Lexa muttered and after dropping a chaste kiss to Clarke’s lips, she gave the unveiled breasts her undivided attention.

First she cupped them, grazing her fingertips over perked nipples, still quite unbelieving of how such an exquisite woman like Clarke was all hers to love. She gently scraped her fingernails up and down the blonde’s sides, drawing the slightest of shudders from the goose-bumped skin.

When Lexa’s lips touched her nipple, Clarke let out a low moan. The brunette was caring and thoughtful, nibbling lightly on the hardened bud and soothing it with her tongue. When she drew another moan from the blonde, Lexa shifted her focus to the other breast, lips closing around the top to give it the same care she had the other.

Lexa leaned forward over Clarke’s body again, crashing her plump lips against the blonde’s thin strokes of a brush.

She didn’t linger though, kissing her way down Clarke’s neck and torso with soft bites and swift swipes of her tongue over the smudges of reddened skin. She placed a kiss over Clarke’s heart and on each breast, nipping a crimson mark into the skin between them. Then she left a trail of kisses and nibbles down the blonde’s belly, stopping only at the edge of her jeans.

Lexa swallowed, fully aware of the line they were about to cross. Clarke was nevertheless sure of what she wanted and took Lexa’s hand in hers, placing them over the button of her jeans.

Lexa nodded and fumbled with it for a short moment, before unzipping the pants and helping Clarke wriggle out of them. Then she took her own sweating pants off and lowered her body onto the blonde’s, feeling the warmth of skin against skin. Clarke whimpered at the sensation.

After once again searching Clarke’s lips from encouragement, Lexa’s focus raked down the blonde’s body and reached her panties.

“Yes?” she asked, requiring permission to go forward.

Clarke nodded fervently and let out a husky “yes” that Lexa promptly took.

She placed gentle kisses on Clarke’s thighs, travelling up and inside with each touch of velvet lips on satin skin. She pressed two fingers against Clarke’s centre and even through the fabric she could feel how much the blonde wanted her. Clarke’s moan did not tell otherwise.

“Lexa,” she rasped out, a breathless plea that made the brunette smile.

Lexa pulled the panties down as Clarke lifted herself off the bed to help her and then kicked them away.

As she had done earlier, Lexa took a moment to lean back and admire Clarke’s body, her eyes travelling up and down, trying to memorise every inch of the blonde’s skin.

Her mind was very much set though, and the moment she saw Clarke vaguely twitch, Lexa swiftly returned her attention to the warmth pooling between the blonde’s thighs.

Clarke’s tongue curled around a loud moan just as Lexa’s dragged along her wet folds and then toyed with her clit, teeth grazing and playing it almost cruelly. Her fingers gripped the sheets just as Lexa’s found her core, first teasing at her entrance and then two of them pushing deep inside her.

It was neither fast nor slow. It was loving, naked and faithful, moans navigating her skin and scraping up her throat. It was ardent, crazy and free, Clarke quickly finding herself begging Lexa for peace, for the edge and for closure.

And finally, just as Lexa’s fingers curled up inside Clarke, the last of Lexa’s walls crumbled in awe of the exquisite sight of the blonde coming undone beneath her. Clarke’s own walls pulsed and closed around the brunette’s curling fingers and she moaned out loud and deeper than before, riding out her orgasm as pleasure thrust writhing waves along her body.

Lexa only rid Clarke of her fingers when her breathing had stabilised. She licked her fingers clean and then brought her lips up to Clarke’s to give the blonde a taste of her own gratification.

Clarke moaned into the kiss, now sloppy but infused with passion, and slid the straps of Lexa’s bra from the tattooed shoulders.

“My turn now,” she hummed against the brunette’s lips and received a bite on her tongue as a reply.

Hours later, both girls slept enveloped in each other, Clarke’s bare back against Lexa’s exposed breasts, both exhausted from a long night of discovering one another’s bodies multiple times.

Clarke’s dreams were happy that night, riding on the bliss of the first time with the woman she not yet knew was the love of her life.

 

 

 

(Ignorance is a dangerous thing.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have gone a bit more mature, but I'll leave that for next time ;) #sorrynotsorry
> 
> It's good that Lexa enjoyed this so much because it was her last time being top lol. Seriously tough, I hope you liked it ^-^
> 
> And you can trust me, guys. Seriously, you can :)
> 
> 12k words. Sorry for putting you through this torture x)


	16. the calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not giving you a shirt for your birthday, Lexa, that’s just stupid. And your birthday present is a surprise.”  
> “I know, I found it on your History when I was looking for that Taylor Swift website I’d lost some days ago. It was hidden amongst all the porn,” Lexa had added with a smirk.  
> “That’s a lie and you know it.”  
> “It is,” she had conceded with an amused glint in her eyes. “But don’t think I didn’t see all the Ian Somerhalder Google search results.”
> 
> or
> 
> Lexa tells her story and Clarke struggles to tell her own
> 
> or
> 
> The order in which you do things can change the course of your life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took long, was busy being a werewolf
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (also, the last part of the summary is a little overdramatic but it sounded good, so)  
> (oh and can you find the Katie Melua reference?)  
> (lastly, if you find any gross mistakes, PLEASE tell me! thanks!)

Waking up early was one of Lexa’s favourite parts of the day. Stretching her body, feeling the muscles roll along her arms and legs, welcoming the light of day with a quick shower and a nutritious breakfast.

Lexa didn’t need an alarm clock; she always woke up naturally after a number of hours of sleep. It was so organic and she liked it. She loved waking up at the crack of dawn and leaping to activity before everyone else.

Today, however, was not one of those days. Her body had not wakened her up. Instead, when her eyes opened, she found the light already invading her room and bathing the sheets where her body and Clarke’s lay naked, tangled in each other.

Lexa sighed contentedly and registered with amused intrigue that Clarke’s arms were wrapped around her, the blonde’s face resting against her back. She could feel her nose, soft against her spine, and peaceful breaths spreading goose bumps over her skin.

They must have rolled over in their sleep and found each other in their need for warmth and contact, for the first time inverting their usual cuddling positions. It was comfortable and relaxing, having Clarke’s possessive arms holding her close to her front, feeling the blonde’s breasts against her back and her golden hair tickling the skin on her shoulders and neck.

(Lexa still preferred their usual arrangement. This was a nice change of routine though.)

Lexa felt Clarke’s eyes flutter open and a smile draw small shivers on tanned skin, then lips placing a tender kiss between her shoulder blades and hands begging her to turn around. So she did.

She rolled over her back to face Clarke, who rested their foreheads together, a dozy smile adorning thin pink lips. There was bliss in her eyes and Lexa felt eternally blessed to have this blue-eyed angel in her bed, in her bedroom, in her life. Clarke’s lips opened in a bright grin that made Lexa’s heart beat slower, faster as well, like the feeling of coming home.

“Hey, babe,” the blonde muttered in her raspy barely awake voice, one that never failed to make Lexa swallow around a delighted lump in her throat.

“Hello,” she responded with a dopey smile of her own and lightly bumped her nose into Clarke’s.

The blonde chuckled and dropped a feathery kiss on Lexa’s lips. “Happy anniversary, babe.”

Glee boiled up the brunette’s body. “Happy anniversary, Clarke.”

Excited and with a contagious giddy smile, Clarke scooted closer (as if they weren’t already so close) and snuggled up to Lexa’s bare front, forehead against her collarbone.

“What are we doing today?” she spoke into Lexa’s chest and the brunette felt every sound wave vibrate its way to her heart.

Lexa smiled.

“I have a promise to fulfil. And I need you for that.”

Her arms, circling Clarke’s torso, pulled the blonde even closer. Clarke hummed in contentment.

“Sounds appealing,” the muffled voice

“It is,” Lexa confirmed and dropped a kiss on Clarke’s forehead. “And the best part is that we still have some hours to enjoy this comfortable bed and each other’s company.”

Clarke chuckled. “You mean more time for sex?”

Lexa smirked. “That too.”

The blonde shifted and turned so that some seconds later she was straddling Lexa. They shared a kiss, intense enough to get their hearts jumping but chaste enough for them to be able to stop before it developed into something more.

Clarke pulled away first.

“You know…” she pressed her index and middle fingers on Lexa’s belly, making them walk up the expanse of tanned skin like a person. “I don’t think I’ve straddled you on every possible surface yet.”

Lexa looked up at the blonde, her beautiful bare front towering over Lexa, and swallowed at the sight. Clarke was extraordinary.

“It’s only natural since this was the first time we were intimate, Clarke.”

“I love it when you sound like an old lady. You’re right though. We should remedy that.”

“And we will. But right now,” she grabbed Clarke and rolled them over, so she was now the one straddling the blonde, ”we have more pressing matters to attend.”

Clarke giggled, marvelling at the way Lexa’s curls cascaded down one side of her face and her green eyes shone blissfully, lips slightly parted. “Oh yeah? And what matters would those be?”

Lexa nudged their noses together. “I think there are still parts of this bed left unexplored. We should remedy that,” she added as an afterthought, echoing Clarke’s words.

 

//

 

“Lexa?”

“Yes, Clarke?”

They were in their underwear, perched on Lexa’s couch, the brunette facing the TV and Clarke with her back against the arm of the sofa, her legs on Lexa’s lap while she doodled on her sketchbook.

Lexa was absentmindedly caressing Clarke’s legs, her palms soft over the blonde’s shins and knees, whilst her eyes were trained on some History documentary playing on the small screen.

“Does it bother you?”

Lexa peeled her eyes off the screen and turned her head to look at Clarke, an eyebrow rising. “What bothers me?”

“My sleeping around. Previous,” she added quickly, “sleeping around. I just want everything to be 100% transparent between us, no lies, complete trust. Does it bother you that I was with all those people before you?”

Lexa tilted her head like a confused pup and a warm smile took over her lips. “Those people are history, Clarke,” she said softly. “Whatever you had with them is gone, buried as deeply as the artefacts in this documentary. I don’t care about your past experiences and would never judge you for enjoying yourself one way or another.”

Clarke dug her feet deeper into the couch, pulling herself closer. She hooked her arms around Lexa’s neck and kissed her check, then nuzzled into her jaw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she whispered into the brunette’s ear.

“I’m serious, Clarke.” Lexa leaned ever so slightly away from the embrace and turned to look at the blonde, dropping a butterfly kiss on the tip of her nose. She wanted her girlfriend to fully understand her point of view. “Any other stories you might have written are meaningless now. Of course I care and want to know about them, because I want to know all of you. But I don’t mind them a little bit.” Lexa’s hands grazed up Clarke’s sides and drew light circles around her breasts. “I want us to write each other’s second story. Our first.”

Clarke nodded. “I’d very much like that.”

Lexa smirked and lifted her legs onto the couch, kneeling in front of Clarke, towering over her. “You know what I would like?”

Clarke laughed and pushed her away, only enough for Lexa to fall with her back on the couch. The blonde crawled her way onto Lexa’s lap, straddling her hips.

“You know,” she started with a drawl, her voice low and sultry. Lexa felt her mouth go dry; the blonde still had that effect on her. “This would be the perfect chance to début yet another horizontal surface.”

Lexa leaned up, kissing Clarke deeply. “Yes,” she agreed as she pulled away. “We haven’t débuted any couches yet.”

Clarke smirked. “We should remedy that.”

 

****

 

One thing Clarke loved about Lexa was her simplicity. Lexa wasn’t one for big gestures. Those were already in her green eyes and her full smile and the way she kissed Clarke like the blonde was the world’s eighth great wonder.

So Clarke had not been expecting grandeur in their one-month anniversary. But she also hadn’t expected _this_. And god, had she loved it.

When Lexa had pulled her, hands tangled, into the gym classroom, Clarke’s eyes had widened and started shining like the brightest diamonds. That was what Clarke loved about Lexa.

She didn’t need any great gesture to show Clarke how much she loved her. She simply remembered every single one of their conversations and acted on them. Clarke had told her once that she wished to watch one of Lexa’s classes; so Lexa had brought her to watch one on that special day. And the comfort of it, the domesticity and familiarity of it — that’s what made Clarke feel something she had never felt before.

Lexa was… strangely amazing with children.

“It’s a ninjutsu class, Clarke,” she had told the blonde when she had been changing into her training gear (dark Aladdin-like tracksuit pants and a blessing of a black sleeveless shirt, Clarke had registered with hungry eyes). “I will be dealing with kids spanning from five to eight years old.”

Clarke had chuckled and wondered how bad Lexa must be with children. Oh how terribly wrong she had been, and how deliciously pleased she was with that. Lexa and kids — that was a sight to marvel at.

Lexa wasn’t one of those people that got excited and bubbly when dealing with small people. No, she was very Lexa in fact. Stoic, quiet, with an apparent absolute lack of patience for the kids’ shenanigans — which was merely apparent, because the way she withstood their attacks and mischief with only an eye roll and a sigh was nothing more than endlessly patient.

Somehow, the kids loved Lexa. They obeyed to her too, doing everything she asked them to do. She was calm and collected, her voice steady and stern, explaining positions and movements like she was talking to adults. And for some reason, it worked.

When playing time arrived, the kids went crazy.

Four of them, seemingly the youngest, started tugging at Lexa’s shirt, asking her to do something she apparently did quite often. With her signature eye roll and sigh, she outstretched her arms, standing very stoically and straight in the middle of the room. Squealing, the smallest children jumped her wrapped their arms around Lexa’s and soon, the woman looked like a coat stand with coats in form of children hanging loosely from her arms.

Clarke laughed at the sight, eliciting another eye roll from Lexa, and quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture of the peculiar view. Raven and Octavia would certainly require visual proof to believe such thing had happened. Lexa just grunted.

A little girl started crying at some point, a bigger kid had pulled her hair. Lexa put the four children down on the floor and strode to the girl’s side, kneeling in front of her.

“What is it, Ontari?” she asked very softly, worried green eyes boring into the girl’s own teary brown.

The little girl sniffled and wiped her tears with her little fist. “Roan pulled my hair,” she sobbed.

Lexa’s glare found the boy and the severity of her scowl was enough to make him recoil and duck his head.

“I’m sorry Heda,” he muttered honestly.

Lexa nodded and turned her attention back to Ontari.

“You’re okay now,” she whispered, holding her with lean hands rested on the little girl’s sides. “He won’t hurt you again.”

Ontari sniffled again and threw her arms around Lexa, burrowing her little face into her neck. Lexa wrapped her in a gentle embrace and whispered words of comfort into her ears. Clarke swooned at the sight.

Ontari dropped an adorable kiss on Lexa’s cheeks. “Thanks Heda.”

Lexa gave her a small smile. “Anytime, Ari.”

As she watched from the sidelines, Clarke felt her heart swell and the same feeling from earlier came rushing back. Right there and then, she envisioned a future with Lexa, with children, with family and never wanted to let go. Clarke looked at her girlfriend, surrounded by adoring children and treating them like little angels, and her heart leapt as realisation hit her.

She was in love with Lexa.

 

//

 

Once class had come to an end, Lexa had asked for fifteen minutes to change.

No sooner and no later, the brunette walked out of the locker room, damp loose curls cascading down the side of her head and tight fitting black jeans and a shirt moulding her elegant frame.

“You’re all dressed up,” Clarke scoffed as they met with a quick kiss, curling her arm around Lexa’s. “Special occasion?”

Lexa shrugged nonchalantly and initiated their walk out of the gym. “My girlfriend and I are celebrating our one-month anniversary.” She leaned down and whispered into Clarke’s ear, “I want to take her to a nice restaurant.” She kissed the blonde’s head just above the ear. “Go somewhere nice for dinner.”

Clarke looked up at her with concern. “Lexa, are you sure?” _Can you really spend the money?_ , was the question left unasked.

Lexa nodded. “I appreciate your worry, Clarke,” she said honestly. “But I want to do something nice for you and I have been wanting to take you out to dinner for a long time.”

“You’re amazing, have I told you that?”

“Clearly not enough times,” Lexa grinned. “I do this only because I love you. And I want to give you a night to remember.”

Clarke tossed Lexa her widest and most loving grin.

“Okay, but first I have to drop by my flat because unlike someone,” she looked Lexa up and down, “I’m not dressed to impress.”

The brunette snorted. “Like you even need to.” The glare the blonde threw her made her rethink her answer. “Clarke, you look beautiful right now but I understand if you want to change into something more formal.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes more until Clarke broke it with a question that had been popping around in her mind.

“Why do they call you Heda?”

Lexa heaved a reluctant sigh. “That’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Long story short, Indra has called me that since I remember,” the brunette relented. “People heard it around the gym and adopted it, now everyone calls me that.”

Clarke’s eyebrows creased. “What does Heda mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“Does Indra know what it means?” Clarke laughed.

Lexa shook her head impotently. “I have been more sure of that,” she admitted.

“I like it. It sounds very noble and respectable. It fits you,” she grinned and kissed Lexa’s cheek sweetly.

The brunette sighed contentedly. Clarke was happy too.

 

//

 

Clarke plopped down on the couch, knees on legs and hiding her face in her hands.

“I’m in love with Lexa.”

Raven and Octavia looked at each other quizzically. “Yeah, we know, so what?”

“Raven,” Clarke started with urgency, lifting her face from its hiding place. “I’m in _love_ with Lexa.”

“Why don’t you tell her then?”

“What if it’s too soon?”

“What if it’s not?”

“Stop answering all my questions with more questions!” Clarke groaned, exasperated.

“Isn’t it working though?

“Screw you.

Raven smirked. “Anya’s been taking care of that — thoroughly.”

When the blonde’s response was another frustrated groan, Octavia quickly tried a different approach. “Look, Clarke, if you love her, then tell her. She loves you too from what you’ve told us.”

“What if she’s changed her mind?”

“What?” Raven’s expression was that of utter confusion.

“What if she no longer loves me?”

Raven’s eyebrow shot up. “Has she broken up with you yet?” she asked back.

“What if by me saying it back, she realises that she doesn’t really love me after all?”

“Are you kidding me?” Octavia chimed in.

“Will you stop that?!” Clarke exclaimed, staring wide eyed at her friends.

“Alright, alright,” Raven tried to soothe the blonde’s nerves. “But listen. I very much doubt that she magically stopped loving you between telling you, fucking you senseless, and then taking you on the sappiest, cheapest one-month anniversary date humanity has ever witnessed.”

Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears because a second later, Clarke was at it again. “What if she gets scared and closes off again? Or worse, makes a run for the hills? Oh my god, what if she breaks up with me?!” the blonde asked frantically.

Octavia came to the rescue. “Clarke, calm down! Jesus, what’s wrong with you? Just calm down, woman, will you?”

“Yes, but—“

“No but’s,” Raven cut her off right away. “The girl is head over heels in love with you. You enter the room and all of a sudden she sees no one else. You can practically see hearts in her eyes when she looks at you. It’s like you’re her fucking sun and stars!

“She pukes rainbows whenever you’re near,” Octavia continued. “So unless you fuck it up royally or pull some weird ass shit, there is no way on Earth that she will break up with you.”

“What if I do fuck it up though?”

“Then good luck getting her to forgive you,” Raven sneered. “Girl can hold a grudge.”

“Gee, thanks for the encouraging words, Raven.”

The deadpan was back. The brunettes smiled at seeing their friend’s personality back in place and then shrugged.

“We’re just not worried,” Octavia declared. “And you shouldn’t be either. Everything you do is amazing in Lexa’s eyes. You could literally eat your own shit and she would still find it attractive.”

“That’s why I know that I can’t fuck it up, guys,” Clarke confessed with a heavy sigh. “Lexa’s it for me, I can feel it. I can’t lose her.”

In that moment, both the mechanic and the petite brunette understood where the blonde’s insecurity was coming from. Raven placed a comforting hand on her friend’s knee and smiled encouragingly.

“And you won’t,” she promised. “Lexa loves you, you love her, what can possibly go wrong?”

Clarke averted her stare from Raven, looking the space ahead of them and then at her own hands. It was not an easy thing to say. Her friends’ concern grew exponentially.

“Clarke,” Octavia warned. “What could possibly go wrong?”

Clarke took a deep breath and expelled the air slowly.

“The bet,” she whispered almost inaudibly, though Raven and Octavia heard it clearly. “I haven’t told her about the bet.”

Both brunettes’ eyebrows shot so far up they almost touched their hair.

“You haven’t told her about the bet?” Octavia repeated incredulously. “Why, Clarke? Why?”

The blonde flinched. “I wanted to be sure that Lexa was okay with some stuff before telling her,” she explained genuinely. “But now I know she is and I want to tell her everything, avoid any misunderstandings and— and tell her I love her.”

Raven nodded repeatedly. “You do that, Clarke. She will understand.”

Clarke’s eyes returned to her brown, shining and hopeful. “You sure?”

“We are sure, Clarke,” Octavia confirmed, sitting on the arm of the couch and throwing an arm kindly around the blonde’s shoulders. “Now go get yourself dressed, because my girl isn’t going to her fancy one-month anniversary dinner looking like a fucking ragdoll.”

Clarke rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that forced its way into her lips. Raven and Octavia were a blessing.

 

****

 

The restaurant was nothing luxurious, but it had taken booking with one week in advance. It was nothing luxurious, but it was the type of comfortable, quaint place that both Lexa and Clarke liked. It was small but spacious enough for everyone to be able to talk without yelling, simple but beautiful as well, the food was great but not pretentious.

Yes, Lexa was proud of her choice. She had handpicked the restaurant and done it well. It was the perfect place to take Clarke on a romantic dinner.

They were now sitting, having ordered already and waiting for their meals to arrive. Lexa cleared her throat, getting Clarke’s attention.

“On the issue of complete trust,” she started tentatively, “I would like to tell you something.”

Clarke cocked her head but her blue eyes were soft like the warm waves of summer sea. “Tell me.”

“I think it will help you understand why Anya is not particularly fond of you. Yet,” Lexa added quickly. “She will warm up to you eventually.”

Clarke chuckled. “I doubt that. But go on.”

“This is not just my story, but it is important that you know of it. And that you know it. I want you to know even the things I am not proud of.”

Clarke placed her hand atop Lexa’s that was on the table.

“Whatever you tell me,” she started kindly, “it will make you no less of a woman in my eyes.”

Lexa nodded with a small smile. Then she proceeded to tell Clarke about Anya’s affair with Elise, her misadventures in the drug world, Echo, the two girls that got pulled into their mess, Carl Emerson and Cage Wallace, and Gustus.

“Wow,” Clarke muttered when Lexa finished the story. “No wonder Anya doesn’t like me. I would be suspicious of myself too.”

Lexa nodded her agreement. “But I haven’t told you my part of the story yet. And this is not something I am especially proud of.”

Clarke squeezed the hand she still held. “I told you, Lexa, nothing you say can lower my opinion of you.”

Lexa nodded curtly and cleared her throat. “Any is a mathematician, an economist. She is neat, logical, practical, straightforward. She always excelled at Calculus, Algebra, anything that involved numbers and rational thinking. Therefore, when she turned to me for help, I knew that she kept everything carefully written down somewhere.

“She would never give it to the police herself, too blinded by her love for Elise and afraid of what Emerson and Cage might do to the girl. Anya was never particularly worried about herself,” Lexa explained. “She knew she had made a mistake and awaited punishment, as Indra taught us from a young age. She was worried about Elise, Echo, and the two girls.

“Finding the wooden box under her bed was easy but before handing the notebook to the police I had to ensure that every loose thread was taken care of. I ripped and burned every page that had Echo’s name in it, knowing it would look suspicious but the Police would conveniently overlook if the notebook still led them to the big fish.”

“You tampered with evidence.” It was not a question, it was not an accusation. It was simply a statement and Lexa nodded in confirmation. “Go on.”

“The next step was to take care of the girls. Their misery had been Anya’s doing and she had to pay for it somehow,” Lexa stated, a stoic and emotionless mask concealing her feelings. It was easy pretending not to feel. “I illegally sold the wedding ring she had bought and used the money to pay for their rehabilitation, several states away from here. The last step was Elise.”

The word had been spit out with venom, a grudge still hot in Lexa’s gut.

“Anya had kept their photos, plenty of them quite incriminatory. Now know I am not proud of this, Clarke,” she reiterated, worried that the blonde would find her a hypocritical monster after what she had to say. “Using someone’s sexuality against them is… repugnant, to say the least. But Elise had hurt my sister immensely and I was not about to sit down and cross my arms while she came out of it unscathed. Blood must have blood, Clarke. She would not get away with hurting my sister.”

Clarke nodded and Lexa felt her chest clench at the blonde’s unconditional support. How had she been so lucky?

“Her parents were republicans,” Lexa resumed. “Naturally, having an LGBT daughter would be a dishonour to them. I did what I had to do. Anya didn’t want to turn her in, so I decided to respect her wish, but that fiend still had to pay. I stormed my way into the Mayor’s office and showed him/her the numerous compromising pictures of his daughter with Anya. He was horrified. He threatened me in every way possible but I made sure to make him understand that he was in no position to try and take the upper hand. I was the one making the threats, I was the one with an offer he could not refuse.”

“You blackmailed them,” Clarke specified, and once again it wasn’t an accusation. It was all but a statement. Lexa nodded.

“I told him that unless he resigned from the job immediately and fled to some other state, those pictures would become public. The next day, the Mayor had resigned and their house was empty, Elise gone with them,” Lexa said. “I could finally free Anya.

“I requested a hearing with Gustus and laid my offer very clearly,” she continued. “He had to free Anya, give her a clean record, forget her involvement in that situation, and I would give him the names of the people that my sister had worked for, as well as transaction records, shipment dates and locations, and storage addresses. He laughed, knowing I had him in my hand. I had Lincoln help me, a speed dial away, and told Gustus that the notebook would be burnt if he did not comply. He had no choice but to accept my conditions,” she shrugged simply. “Days later, Anya was out, Cage, Emerson, and several dozens others were arrested with a solid case against them, and Gustus was a good friend, helping us all with whatever we needed to recover from the trauma.”

A few moments of silence ensued, Lexa waiting nervously for Clarke’s reaction. The one she got was the one she least unexpected.

“You are a hero, Lexa.” The brunette looked up at Clarke, finding her magnificent pools of blue, and her own green eyes questioned her without a voice. “You are a hero.”

“Clarke, I blackmailed a politician,” she countered gravely.

The blonde shrugged. “That’s what they do for a living,” she snorted.

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I stole from Anya.”

“No, you saved her ass, that’s what.”

“I— I used a girl’s sexuality against her, Clarke!” Lexa tried desperately.

She felt the need to accuse herself, show Clarke that she had done wrong, bad things. That she was a monster — or that at least she was no hero. Deep down, she wanted Clarke to despise her, because then maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone doing it herself.

“And wasn’t that what she had done to Anya already?” Clarke exclaimed, clearly desperate to defend Lexa and make her see that she had done more right than wrong. “We can’t even know for sure that she really liked girls, she could have been faking it all along. She dug her own grave when she fooled Anya and treated her like trash, Lexa. You only lowered the casket.”

The brunette heaved a sad sigh. “That does not make me feel much better, Clarke.”

“Lexa,” Clarke whispered, standing up and walking around the table to kneel before her girlfriend and take her face in her hands, looking straight into doleful jade eyes. “I can’t say that you did nothing wrong, because that wouldn’t be true. But she was a bad person. She hurt your sister. She had to go away. You did what had to be done. You bore it so Anya wouldn’t have to and that’s such a noble thing to do,” Clarke asserted, eyes filled with love. “I am in awe of your strength and your selflessness and your willingness to make the hard choices so that others can live in peace. The bad things we do for those we love don’t have to define us. And if they do, it ought to be for the fact that we were willing to take a bullet to save them. Blackmail, tampering with evidence, stealing, whatever you did — look at the consequences. Drug dealers in jail, an evil girl away from where she could do more damage, two girls fighting back from their addiction, Echo safe and sound, and Anya completely free and able to live her life without the shadow of a criminal record. How are all of those things anything other than _just_ right?

“You made your own justice? Yes, that much is undeniable. But didn’t everyone that deserved a little bit of peace benefit from it? Didn’t you do right by all of those that needed help?”

Lexa nodded slowly and inhaled, her breath uneven. “Yes.”

“Then please don’t beat yourself up for doing the right thing,” Clarke concluded with a chaste but sweet kiss that conveyed all that could not be said by words. “I l— I care about you too much to see you suffer.”

Lexa knew what hid behind that sudden change of words, but let it be. If Clarke wasn’t ready to say it yet, then Lexa wouldn’t push her.

“I love you, Clarke,” she whispered into the blonde’s lips.

Clarke smiled fondly and returned to her seat. Just as she did so, the waiter arrived with their food. It looked — and, as they were to confirm just a minute later, tasted — divine.

Clarke must have taken off her heels then, because a foot slid up Lexa’s leg under the table, stopping only between her legs. The brunette swallowed, suddenly self-conscious.

“Bon appétit,” Clarke wished with a wink.

Lexa gulped again. She would be having yet another meal later — of the Clarke kind.

 

****

 

Raven and Anya had decided to spend the night at the latter’s apartment, so Lexa and Clarke could have the other one for themselves. Now, Raven was drunk like she never had been and everything was funny.

“You know what’s gonna happen tonight at mine, don’t you?” she giggled, finding the whole situation hilarious. Anya rolled her eyes, secretly amused with her girlfriend’s drunkenness. “They’re gonna do _it_.”

Anya nodded, “I know.”

“And _we_ ,” Raven motioned between them, “are gonna do _it_.”

The blonde chuckled. “No we’re not,” she refused, taking the bottle from the mechanic’s hands. “You are too drunk to give consent.”

“But you’re my girlfriend!” Raven whined.

“Still. Too drunk.”

The brunette groaned but eventually accepted her destiny.

“You know what I found out today?” she asked moments later, entertained with another topic to talk about.

“What did you find out today?” Anya chuckled.

“Clarke luuurvs Lexa,” Raven said with a slurred voice, nodding violently with every word. “They’re like— disgusting rainbow birds in love.”

“You mean gay lovebirds?” the blonde scoffed.

“Clarke is bi,” Raven corrected seriously, lifting her index finger. “Never forget that.”

“Alright,” Anya acquiesced. “You’re right.”

“Damn right I am,” Raven concurred quite brusquely, like she had to prove a point. “I’m always right.” She stole the bottle from Anya’s hand and took a large swig, handing it back to the blonde right after. “Like I was right when I told Clarke not to worry. Lexa loves her, she doesn’t have to worry.”

Anya let one of her eyebrows rise in question. “Worry about what?”

“Don’t pretend you hate her,” Raven counterattacked, forgetting Anya’s question. “You like Clarke,” she accused very seriously.

Anya rolled her eyes. “I guess she’s more bearable now than she used to be.”

Raven grinned so brightly that Anya didn’t regret her confession.

“I knew you were warming up to her,” Raven bragged, happy that her girlfriend and best friend were finally getting along. “Like I said, I’m always right. Like when I told Clarke not to worry about the thing.”

Anya’s brow creased. “What thing?”

Raven looked at her, confused. “You know, the thing.”

“No, I don’t, Raven,” she denied sternly. “What thing?”

The mechanic’s hand shot up to envelop Anya’s cheeks, squeezing them and making the eye rolling blonde’s lips look like those of a fish.

“You are adorable,” she stated, the alcohol clear in her voice.

“You are insufferable,” Anya deadpanned.

Raven released her grip on Anya’s face and leaned back on the couch.

“I knew Clarke shouldn’t worry about the bet,” she muttered in a ramble. “I knew it because I was right and I’m always right so of course I knew that what I knew was righ—”

“Bet?” Anya interrupted her, now serious and trying to placate her own anger. “What bet?”

Raven snorted, oblivious to the change in her girlfriend’s mood. “You know, the bet. Clarke has to sleep with fifty people in six months,” she rambled on, “boys and girls, and Octavia will have to do anything — _anything_ — she asks of her.”

Anya’s brows furrowed. “I did not know of such bet,” she said carefully.

“Yes you did!” Raven exclaimed with a laugh. “And the thing with Lexa too.”

Anya’s jaw clenched. She was seething. “What thing with Lexa?” she asked very slowly.

“You know,” Raven continued, still too drunk to register what was happening. “Clarke had twenty people left, Lexa won her the bet. Bang bang shebang, Octavia has to suffer,” she cackled.

Anya stood up abruptly, dragging her girlfriend by the arm, and led them to the kitchen. There, she filled several glassed of water and made Raven drink them. About ten glasses and a half hour nap later, the mechanic was awake and reasonably sober, albeit completely unaware of what had happened just an hour earlier.

Anya knelt in front of her, eyes burning into Raven’s own. “Now tell me,” she started very slowly, controlling the bite in her every word. “What about the bet?”

Raven’s eyes widened in horror and suddenly she was livid, face ashen and heart beating out of her chest.

“Fuck.”

 

****

 

The dinner had been an absolute treat. Company was the best, of course, but Clarke had also loved the food and the environment and the service, and basically everything that night.

Conversation with Lexa was always so easy and pleasant, going over everything pizza to travelling, from college to future plans, from Indra to Abby — Lexa had insisted that Clarke make peace with her mother —, from their first time to how Lexa needed a new pair of boxers.

“But the price is rising continually,” the brunette had complained. “And if Pauna keeps tearing them at this pace, soon I will have no underwear.”

“Which reminds me,” Clarke had remembered, “I was folding your socks the other day and you need a new pair.”

Lexa had groaned. “I still owe you money for doing my laundry.”

“Nah don’t worry, I mixed some of my own in. And your favourite white shirt may or may not have become pink,” Clarke had added with a grimace.

“You know I hate pink, Clarke,” Lexa had whined. “And it was my best shirt.”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” the blonde had assured. “What do you say I give you a new white shirt for Christmas?”

“Birthday,” Lexa had corrected, chewing her food. “Remember we are buying the new speakers for Christmas.”

Clarke had rolled her eyes then. “I’m not giving you a shirt for your birthday, Lexa, that’s just stupid. And your birthday present is a surprise.”

“I know, I found it on your History when I was looking for that Taylor Swift website I’d lost some days ago. It was hidden amongst all the porn,” Lexa had added with a smirk.

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It is,” she had conceded with an amused glint in her eyes. “But don’t think I didn’t see all the Ian Somerhalder Google search results.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke had groaned but laughed immediately after. “Stop using my computer!”

“Stop making your password my own name,” Lexa had shrugged.

Clarke had crossed her arms, trying but failing to look annoyed. “I’ll change it then.”

“You know I will still guess it if it’s something along the lines of Pauna, SexyLexy or lexastats, right?”

Clarke had laughed. “Can’t help that I l— like you so much,” she had saved with a grin, repeating to herself that she wanted to first find the perfect moment.

Now, fingers intertwined and palms sharing physical heat, both all bundled up to survive the freezing night cold as they headed to Clarke’s flat, felt like the right time.

“There were two moments for me,” she started, “of realising my… Infatuation for you.”

Lexa looked at her, an eyebrow quirking.

“I started having a crush on you god knows when, but I only noticed it when you came to my house and watched the blood moon and my show with me,” Clarke explained, puffs of breath forming little waves of smoke as she spoke. “Then that time I was an idiot and thought you’d bought my show for someone else, that’s when I realised I actually _liked_ you.”

“You were very frustrating at the time,” Lexa chuckled, earning a light and playful slap on her shoulder. “I was so smitten.”

“I was adorable.”

“Yes. But infuriatingly oblivious too.”

If Clarke were to allow herself some honesty, she would admit that was true. Her fears had been at play too.

She stopped them and turned to face Lexa, burying her hands inside the front pockets of Lexa’s jacket.

“You were so patient,” she remarked, a fond smile looking up at her girlfriend. “And now, look where we are.”

The corners of Lexa’s lips turned up in an adoring smile and she kissed Clarke chastely but conveying all the love she felt for the blonde.

Lexa’s phone started ringing then and she peeked at the name on the screen.

“It’s Anya,” she sighed, motioning to take the call.

“No,” Clarke stopped her, holding her arm. Then she grinned brightly. “No phones today.”

“What if she is dying?”

“Doubt that,” she laughed. “Come on, mine’s already off. Let’s have a night just for ourselves.” Lexa nodded and smiled, turning off her phone. “That just reminded me that my flat is ours for the evening. Let’s go before the night gets any older.”

“No, wait,” Lexa stopped her, taking her hand. “There is one last surprise left. And that includes spending the night somewhere special.”

 

****

 

When Lexa closed the wooden cabin door behind them, half their clothes were already gone. When she finished pouring them two glasses of champagne, Clarke was already lying provocatively on the bed.

Their phones would have rung countless times, were they not turned off.

Lexa slid Clarke’s panties off, dragging her tongue along the bare skin until it reached the blonde’s centre. Clarke traced each line of Lexa’s tattoos with nibs and kisses, painting red marks onto tan skin with her lips like a brush.

When the flat door was opened, it was dark and there was no one to be seen.

Meanwhile, in the cabin, Lexa’s mouth fondled Clarke’s breasts. The blonde’s tongue ran along Lexa’s folds. Clarke’s eyes fluttered close and her voice became hoarse from moaning Lexa’s name. Two fingers slipped inside, making green eyes shoot open in pleasure.

By the time each of their turned off phones registered thirty missed calls, Clarke and Lexa were sleeping, wrapped in each other and hearts strung together, bare and exposed and helplessly in love, the kind of love that no longer was tentative, it was simple and whole instead, good and peaceful, like the at long last steady beat of two restless hearts in quiet sync.

The kind of love that could unravel even the most carefully wrapped up of hearts, the kind of love that stemmed from a place of peace and comfort and home, of purely loving each other without the outside world storming in, shielded from the pressures, and found its place in the intimacy of a glance, in the lightness of a kiss, the silent ruffle of moaning sheets.

The kind of love that survived the most thunderous storms.

They were going to need it.

 

****

 

Lexa thought about the stars. Why was fate written in them? Why were the players of a doomed romance called star-crossed lovers? Why did the night-light disappear whenever the sky was brewing up a storm? Why did she gaze at the stars, hoping to find all the answers, when she knew them to be in her heart all along?

Why did the woman she loved shine brighter than all of them?

They were resting in bed, awake and in silence, that contemplative silence that she knew to be so natural with Clarke, loving and being loved, feeling it with their heartbeats and little more.

She wondered if she had loved Clarke in past lives more than she did now and quickly concluded that no, that was not possible. Her love for Clarke was immeasurable, intact through the ages, paths crossed and uncrossed but always destined to share at least a kiss.

She thought about all that she would sacrifice for Clarke; then she thought about what would make her sacrifice that love that Lexa herself had just deemed as boundless and infinite. Not that love could be quantified, but if it could, Lexa knew theirs would break all the scales.

She wondered how it was possible to love someone so much that you almost felt that feeling want to burst out of your body, so immense that a simple human shell wouldn’t be able to hold it all in. Not even a bit.

Finally, she thought that even if all her beliefs were wrong, one existence with Clarke was better than none at all. An hour with Clarke would have been better than a million lifetimes without seeing those blue eyes, burying her nose in that golden hair, getting lost in that smile that made the brightest star pale in comparison.

Lexa wondered that maybe Clarke and her were the fundamental meaning of soul mates.

She let her eyes close and her eyelids became the canvas to her dreams of a thousand lives with Clarke.

“Lexa.” The raspy voice interrupted Lexa’s somnolent creations and she welcomed the daylight again.

Beside her, Clarke propped her elbow on the pillow, holding her head with it, and drew idle figures of eight on her chest, right above her heart.

“Do you believe in fate?” The question surprised Lexa, it was like she and Clarke had been thinking of the exact same thing. “Or destiny or any of those things?”

A smile, wistful, even blissful, pulled the corners of her mouth up.

“Sometimes I believe in fate,” she admitted. “But the chances we create always seem to ring more true.”

Clarke, who had been looking down at her with curious blue eyes, nodded and laid her head back on Lexa’s shoulder. The brunette draped an arm around the blonde's back.

Both women closed their eyes.

“I believe in soul mates though,” Lexa confessed. “And reincarnation.”

Clarke looked up at her again, an enquiring glimmer in her pools of sky blue. “What do you mean?”

Lexa shrugged, this was the easiest reasoning she had ever made in her life.

“I simply refuse to believe that this is the only lifetime I get to love you and have you in my arms."

Clarke joined her lips with Lexa’s chastely, lingering and extending the touch along several seconds, breathing in all of Lexa, and Lexa breathing in all of Clarke. The blonde was inebriating.

Once their lips parted, Clarke hovered over Lexa for a while longer, gaze on her lips and jaw and eyes and cheek.

Lexa felt the blonde open her mouth, but before she could register it, she wrapped an arm around Clarke’s waist and turned them around. They were now laying side by side, Lexa on her chest and Clarke on her back, the brunette’s body partially on the blonde’s.

Neither moved. That little cabin in the woods, with its non-existent ceiling and chilly breeze coming in and inviting them to stay under the covers, was paradise. No — exhilarating bliss. For in Lexa’s head and heart, the only paradise on Earth was Clarke.

 

****

 

“No need to call Raven, she said she’d be home early.”

“Still, you should have brought your keys, Clarke,” Lexa scolded her. “What if something happened to her?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “That woman is tougher than you and me together.”

Lexa huffed indignantly. “She certainly is not tougher than me.”

That made Clarke grin and then laugh, leaving the car only with a kiss on the adorable brunette’s cheek.

Just as she was about to enter the building, Lexa’s voice made her turn around.

“Text me when you get home, I will wait here,” she said, partly out of the car and looking at Clarke over the hood.

The blonde nodded and got in, opting to take the elevator after such a draining night. It had been amazing. The cottage Lexa had found was heavenly and the night — oh the night — that had been lovelier even.

Lexa had a way to treat her as though she were made of glass and yet, make her feel stronger than ever before. Lexa gave her double reassurance: she was surer of herself and felt safe with the brunette beside her. A sense of security and freedom that was much welcome.

Little gestures like waiting in the car for Clarke to be home were what made their relationship so special. It wasn’t about grandeur or massive demonstrations of devotion. It was about the small moments; the comfortable silence, the unproductive afternoons sitting in front of the television, the chaste kisses, the lazy mornings, the easy talk, the trivial everyday routine, the virtually unnoticeable caresses among friends.

On the way from the elevator to her flat, Clarke cursed herself for having been to enraptured in Lexa and the marvellous night she had prepared to actually talk about the two most important things on her mind: the bet and how much she already loved Lexa.

Knowing her girlfriend, however, Clarke was certain that she was safe telling her whenever she wanted. Waiting for the right moment. That always seemed too distant to grasp though and Clarke knew that holding this out would not be fair to her Lexa.

 _Her Lexa_. That sounded perfect. Clarke knew that Lexa belonged to no one but herself, but she was also devotedly Clarke’s. It was a balance, as natural as it might seem complicated, as beautiful as the sceptics may it find impossible. Clarke did not care about the sceptics.

The moment she got to her door, Clarke knew it was occupied. Smiling, she pulled out her phone and turned it on, ready to tell Lexa she was inside. As she fumbled with the keys and turned them in the lock, her phone finished booting up and quickly notified her of an alarming number of received texts and missed calls from mainly Raven, also some from Octavia.

Clarke opened the door in a hurry and stormed in, her good mood gone and replaced with extreme worry. Her apprehension only grew more when she saw Raven rush to her, face pale and swollen red eyes.

A lot of scenarios ran through her frenzied mind in that moment. Raven and Anya had broken up, Finn had showed up, Anya had got hurt, Octavia had got hurt, Bellamy had got hurt, someone had got hurt, her mother was in the hospital, someone had died.

She was not ready for Raven’s first words.

“I fucked up.”

 

****

 

As soon as she sat back in her car, Lexa opened the glove compartment and grabbed her phone, readying it for Clarke’s usual ‘home’ text. It was usually something witty, a little joke that was not even that funny but always managed to get at least a smile out of Lexa.

“That’s the textbook definition of whipped,” Anya had told her with a smirk. Yes, maybe it was. Lexa should mind that more than she did.

It was easy not minding the depth of it all with Clarke. Clarke made it so simple with her easy smile, charming attitude and soft, sweet eyes. They both made it simple with their comfortable routine, the light bickering and the way their lives had blended together so naturally that they already seemed like a married couple.

A married couple. Lexa knew it was incredibly soon to think about such things, but somewhere deep in her gut she knew, or at least she hoped, that it would happen someday. Dreamt of it. Had wished for it last night upon the million stars sparkling above them in the roofless cabin.

She realised she had got distracted in her reveries and looked at the clock on her prone. Five minutes had passed. She unlocked it and that’s when the flood of texts and missed calls buzzed the bliss away, replacing it with dread.

The first text she saw was from Clarke: _Babe can you pls come upstairs?_

She made a mental note of doing so as soon as she’d be done reading all of Anya’s texts. Before she could do so, however, her phone rang. She took the call, seeing it was from Clarke.

“Is everything alright, Clarke?” she asked immediately, taking the key from the ignition.

 _“Just please come upstairs as fast as you can, Lexa,”_ Clarke’s voice sounded frantic from the other side of the line. _“I need you.”_

Concern grew in her heart and she nodded quickly, as though her girlfriend could see it. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she murmured curtly, before hanging up and getting out of the car.

As she locked the doors and raced to the entrance of Clarke’s building, Lexa quickly opened Anya’s first text. Upon reading the first words, she stopped dead in her tracks and her face paled instantly.

 

****

 

“She’s taking too long,” Clarke said exasperatedly, fear forged into her voice. “What if she’s read Anya’s texts? What if Anya told her everything?”

Raven sighed, shoulders slumped. “Then you should brace yourself. The Lexa that will get here probably won’t be very friendly.”

Clarke nodded, ready for the worst. Raven had told her the gist of the situation as soon as she’d got home and, as they waited for Lexa, the mechanic had also dished the details.

Getting drunk, accidentally telling Anya about the bet, Anya sobering her up and getting her to talk, tell her everything she knew. And then, breaking up. Anya had broken up with Raven for breaking her trust.

Clarke could not say she did not understand that, as Lexa’s family was big on trust and reliability. Which was why she was so afraid at the moment, knowing that Lexa’s reaction would be anything but kind.

The knock on the door caused Clarke’s blood to freeze. Raven ran to open it, gesturing at the blonde to stay put. The door had barely been locked when it swung abruptly open, tossing Raven back.

A seething Lexa stormed in, her face turning in every direction, presumably looking for Clarke. When she found the blonde, her gaze, cold and ablaze all at once, rested on her unemotionally.

“Clarke.”

The blonde was sure that she couldn’t hide her emotions as expertly as Lexa.

Raven, who had recovered from the shock, jogged to Clarke’s side protectively. “Clarke and I can explain—“

“Get. Out,” Lexa all but snarled.

She was baring her teeth, jaw clenched, and was wearing a ferocious frown, like a merciless predator. Clarke swallowed, knowing she was out of luck.

With a few murmured words, she reassured Raven and told her it was safe to go. The brunette nodded, though still unsure, and left her alone with Lexa.

They must have stared at each other for almost five minutes, still, quiet, studying each other, words kept inside, thoughts running fast, a myriad of feelings pulsing through them but only one constant: silence.

Clarke’s gaze locked with Lexa’s and she finally saw emotion in them. She was taken aback by it. She saw disdain, distrust, anger, confusion, fear, and hurt. So much hurt.

It broke her heart to see just how much Lexa was aching.

“Anya told me everything.”

What she had expected. “Anya doesn’t _know_ everything.

Lexa’s nostrils flared. “She knows enough.”

“No,” Clarke shook her head decisively. “No she doesn’t.”

Lexa raised her chin, looking down at Clarke with a haughty expression, and crossed her arms. “Is it not true that you made a bet where you had to sleep with fifty people?”

“Well, it is, but—“

“And is it not true,” Lexa cut her off, “that you were missing roughly twenty people by the time we started dating?”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean—“

“And is it not true,” Lexa interrupted her again, but this time the words didn’t come out and she swallowed, perhaps pulling them back to the tip of her tongue. “Is it not true that Octavia suggested that, if you slept with me, you would win the bet?”

“It is, but I didn’t—“

“Then how is it not the whole story, Clarke?” The blonde could have sworn there was a hint of near mockery in her tone.

“Bullet points a story make not.”

“But they are no less accurate,” Lexa grunted.

“You just keep on making assumptions based on what little you know,” Clarke exclaimed, desperate to make Lexa understand. “You keep on interrupting me and jumping to conclusions!”

“I think it’s only fair that I am the one jumping to conclusions now.”

How ironic. The spell had turned against the sorcerer.

Clarke sighed in frustration and then looked at Lexa, a plea in her blue eyes. “Whatever it is that you decide to do, just _please_ listen to me when I say that I didn’t—“

“Did you sleep with anyone else during our relationship?” the brunette cut her off once more.

Clarke looked at her in disbelief. “No Lexa, of course not! I would never hurt you like that.”

Lexa nodded curtly without a word, her expression thoughtful but otherwise unreadable.

Then after some seconds, she clenched her jaw and broke the silence at last.

“Very well. I am leaving now, I need to think.”

“What do you mean?” the blonde asked, confused.

“I mean I cannot be with you until I figure out what my stance on this is.”

Panic clenched Clarke’s heart, making it shrink in her chest. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No, Clarke,” Lexa said fiercely, her voice still trying to contain her emotions. “I am taking a break. As much as it scares me to say this, I love you too much to give up on you just yet.”

“I love you too, Lexa.”

Lexa averted her eyes from Clarke at the revelation. The blonde wished she’d said it sooner, faster, better. Just anytime but right now.

When Clarke finally gathered the courage to look at Lexa again and was surprised to find in those green eyes the utmost softness.

“I want to believe you, Clarke. I just wish you would have said it sometime when you were not in risk of losing me.

"It doesn't make it any less true."

Lexa heaved a pensive sigh. "I know.” Then she charged again, “You know what hurt me the most?”

Clarke did not answer.

“It is not the bet, because I truthfully could care less, nor the fact that you apparently agreed to bed me for whatever prize that bet granted you,” Lexa continued. “It is the fact that you went on about trust and truth and telling each other everything and in the end, you could not tell me this.

“I followed your mantra, Clarke. I was always completely honest with you. Yesterday, I told you a story that no one else knows, my best-kept secret. And after I revealed something that means so much to me, you could not muster up the courage to tell me about the bet? Are you above your own rules and beliefs?

“Maybe if I had known about this from you I would have reacted differently. I believe you when you say you did nothing during our relationship and did not accept Octavia’s proposal. However, you decided to take the actions of a hypocrite and keep this a secret from me while preaching trust and honesty.

“I trusted you, Clarke. You did not trust me,” she said, raising her chin, resentment staining her stare. “Therefore you have lost my trust.”

“I _wanted_ to tell you, Lexa,” Clarke defended herself. “You can ask Raven and O, they convinced me to tell you as soon as possible.”

Lexa’s gaze became cold. “Maybe it is time we start sorting things for ourselves instead of relying on our friends to come up with all the answers.”

“Then let’s talk about this.”

Lexa shook her head and raised her hand in refusal. “No. I need to think by myself. Goodbye, Clarke.”

“This is not some medieval play thing, Lexa,” Clarke exclaimed, grabbing the brunette’s arm and turning her around. “You can’t just dismiss me like I’m your servant or something!”

Lexa gazed back at her, eyes ferocious at first but then shining and supplicant. “Clarke. Please.”

Her voice had never sound so broken.

Clarke smiled softly, kindly, that way that made tears want to take over emerald gems. “Please don’t give up on us.”

Lexa’s eyes were sad when she finally whispered, “I am trying not to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh if I saw a Google history like mine after this chapter, I would definitely call the police
> 
> And remember, they did not break up
> 
> Also, next chapter will pick up right after and Lexa will be making someone an unexpected visit
> 
> And naturally, I hope you liked it ^-^ comments, thoughts, feelings, screaming, insults, beating me to a pulp... Leave them all below on the comment section ;)


	17. the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dear Lexa,_   
>  _I promise to tell you nothing but the truth. Starting right now. Here are the little things I never told you._   
>  _Love you xx_   
>  _— C_
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke tells all and Lexa is gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slacked. Wasn't in the right mindset to write in the past few days either.
> 
> Also, if I wasn't so hopelessly totally gay, I would totally want Lincoln to be my boyfriend. He's so sweet.
> 
> ALSO THIS CHAPTER IS FOR SHAY
> 
> tbh I'm not 100% happy with it, only like 87%. Hope you like it either way :)
> 
> I love Lexa :(

Clarke was not Costia.

Lexa knew that, worshipped that, prayed that it was true. And it was — Clarke loved her, had not cheated on her or stopped believing in them.

But Clarke had betrayed her trust too.

 _But Clarke is not Costia_ , she told herself as she drove away from the blonde’s home, determined to make a stop that was perhaps bizarre given the stage that she and Clarke were at, but was no less important to Lexa.

Actually, there was no better moment to do what she was about to do.

Still deep in her thoughts, Lexa parked the car in front of the big house and got out, locking the doors and striding to the front door. She rang the bell and waited for the door to open.

When it did, she stormed right in, walking with large steps past a dumbfounded Abby Griffin.

The woman was fast to regain composure and close the door. “Lexa, Clarke is not here. And I thought I told you not to come back.“

Lexa spun on her heels, facing Clarke’s mother with a severe expression. “I am not here for Clarke.”

Abby quirked an eyebrow, much in the same way as her daughter’s. “What are you here for, then?”

Lexa raised her chin, meaning to assert her authority. “I am here for you.”

The look Abby gave her was of utter disbelief. “I don’t wish to talk—“

“You will _listen_ to what I have to say,” she interrupted ferociously, taking a step towards the woman, which forced her to step back. Lexa looked down at her almost curiously, never relinquishing an ounce of control over the situation. “If you value your relationship with Clarke, you _will_ listen.”

Abby held her chin high and eyed Lexa defiantly, holding her ground as she clearly analysed the situation. After some seconds, she finally stepped down and acquiesced.

“Follow me,” she said simply and walked further into the house, Lexa trailing behind.

Lexa followed Abby to a large study, walls covered with bookshelves that touched the ceiling, except one with a sole stained glass window that covered its whole expanse. There was a desk with a big leather chair, where she supposed the older woman usually worked. Abby closed the door behind them and stood in the middle of the room, waiting for Lexa to speak up.

Lexa, though, was still too fascinated to speak. She had never seen a study that big or bookshelves that tall or a chair that expensive or windows that magnificent. She was almost confused — how were she and the Griffin’s from the same planet?

“Lexa.”

She was startled out of her thoughts but was quick to recover, clearing her throat and directing her attention back to Abby.

She raised her chin, a habit so hers, levelling the woman with a confident stare, and parted her lips to talk.

 

****

 

Clarke’s first thought when Lexa left her apartment was to go get her back. There was really nothing else she could think of, so she quickly grabbed her coat and keys and ran out the door.

Not even the tears running down her face could stop her. In fact, she forgot about them, like one forgets the murmur of the river, and ran like they weren’t even there.

Lexa must have gone home, so that was the way she drove. On the way, she remembered the brunette’s constant annoyance at her terrible driving and chuckled through stubborn sobs.

The drive, perchance made quite a bit over the speed limit, was fast. In no time, she was knocking desperately on Lexa’s door.

“Lexa please open the door!” she knocked a few more times, screaming to the door, knowing that whoever was inside would hear. “Please open the door, Lexa! Just open the goddamned door!”

The door did open, but the face and body she found when it did were not Lexa’s. Instead, it was Anya’s glaring brown eyes and aggressive cheekbones.

“Lexa’s not here,” the older blonde deadpanned. “You should go.”

Before Anya could close the door, however, Clarke stepped up to her and wrapped her arms around her neck.

Clarke felt Anya stiffen in her embrace, refusing to return it and still holding the door, but not pulling away. She sobbed her words out, hoping that Lexa’s sister would understand.

“I am not her,” she croaked out through tears that forced their way out, eyes creasing shut. “I am _not_ Elise. I love Lexa. I _really_ love her. And— and I made a mistake. I’m a hypocrite, Anya, but I love her.” She felt the shock at the mention of the girl from the past. “Please, Anya, please understand. I am _not_ her. I _love_ Lexa.”

Anya seemed to relax marginally. “Why should I understand?” she asked coolly.

Clarke pulled away, big blue eyes boring into Anya’s brown.

“Because you know,” she stated, voice firm. “You know what it is like to make a mistake everyone asks you against. You know what it’s like seeing the danger sign from a mile away and still driving past.”

Anya looked down at her but Clarke could see a flicker of comprehension in her stare.

“You want me to forgive you?” the older girl scoffed. “That’s not my place.”

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t seek forgiveness for myself,” she affirmed sincerely and the other girl’s eyebrow rose. “Come with me.”

Lexa needed to think by herself. Lexa could wait. Anya could not.

Clarke took her hand and guided her out of the building and into her car.

“Are you kidnapping me, Clarke?” Anya questioned with a bite to her words.

“No, I’m actually returning you to where — who — you belong.”

Anya rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, but did not make a move to stop the car.

 

****

 

“I am going to make this succinct,” Lexa started, her voice commanding and her posture, that of a leader. “You love Clarke, do you not? So do I. And believe me, part of that is not wanting her to regret her relationship with her mother. Now tell me,” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “What is her favourite colour?”

Abby looked at her incredulously, like that question had made no sense. The lack of answer encouraged Lexa to continue.

“Nile green. The colour of my eyes,” she declared, not without a proud feeling nestling in her heart. “’Hey babe’ is the first thing she says when we wake up together. Her favourite constellation is Artemis because it makes her feel free and reminds her of me.”

“Those are trivial facts,” Abby countered.

“Indeed they are,” Lexa agreed, chin held high. “But they are also the ones that matter the most. Tell me now with a veiled coolness in her voice,” she coaxed. “What is Clarke’s favourite TV show? And her favourite character? Where was our first date and when did we first become intimate? Why are we fighting right now and when did we celebrate our first anniversary? Where did Bellamy leave his keys when he got locked out of his house? When did Jasper finally muster up the courage to ask his crush Maya out? Who is Raven dating and what did Clarke get for her birthday and where has Octavia been living for the past month?”

She stopped talking, gauging Abby’s reaction. The woman was seething but there was a flash of guilt in her eyes, one Lexa knew that she could explore. So she schooled her features to become even colder, looking at Abby with a sense of disdainful superiority.

“If you can answer any of these questions, any one of them, then I will walk out of this house and never bother you again. But if you can’t, them let me say what I came here to say.”

Abby swallowed, and opened her mouth several times, only to close it again without a single word coming out of it. She finally clamped her jaw, no reply.

“So I thought,” Lexa raised a knowing eyebrow. “You should let Clarke do whatever she feels she should do, otherwise she will never be entirely happy and she will blame you for that.

“I know why you truly want Clarke to pursue a political career and I think it is an honourable reason, but let me tell you: she will not follow you into a future she sees no dignity in. The version of you Clarke admires you is the one that stands by a surgery table saving lives. Not the one that sits behind a desk all day promising lies. Clarke loves the version of you that is always home when she gets there, not the one that sees her only when your job allows you to.

“I know sometimes you push Clarke to be greater because you see so much of your husband in her and feel the need to see even more. But if you keep shoving those dreadful comparisons and your own vision of her future down her throat, soon you will end up seeing none of them. Let your daughter be all that she wants to be. And be there for her, support her in her chosen path. Do not make her push you away,” Lexa warned, voice stern.

“You love Clarke too much to lose her,” she continued, “Clarke loves you too much to lose you and I love her too much to see her lose the only parent she has after her father’s death. I know you want to keep them both, but only one is here and in the flesh. Do not lose Clarke in your quest to find Jake again.”

Abby stared at her, a mix of emotions in her eyes, distrust, vulnerability and confusion the ones standing out.

“How do you…“

“Mrs Griffin, you and Clarke are more alike than you think.” The ghost of a sad smile graced Lexa’s lips. “Maybe that is why I cannot quite bring myself to hate you. And why I cannot quite bring even the tiniest part of myself to be happy if you push yourself away. Mrs Griffin, if Clarke loses you, a part of herself will get lost too. I love all of Clarke, until this morning I was hoping that one day I would make that a spoken promise, and that means loving you too. As hard as that might be,” Lexa sighed. “If you go, a part of me goes with you as well. Even if Clarke and I are unable to see through our current problems, which unfortunately is the most likely outcome, I will always love her; such is the way of soulmates. Seeing her unhappy would… Destroy me,” she admitted. “It would destroy you too. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t do it to Clarke.”

Abby crossed her arms and Lexa knew she had won the argument.

After some seconds, the woman let her arms fall at her sides, walked around her desk, sitting down on the chair, and propped her elbows on the wooden top, index fingers massaging her temples.

“She is my daughter,” she sighed tiredly. “I should be the one lecturing you, not the other way around.”

“And yet,” Lexa retorted, eyebrow quirking in scorn.

“I will talk to my daughter,” Abby finally decided. Then her hands rested on the desk and she looked up at the girl before her. “Thank you, Lexa.”

The younger brunette shrugged. “No need to thank me, Mrs Griffin. All I want is to see Clarke happy.” Then she remembered something important and added, “Just please do not mention this to her. This is your moment, your opportunity to make amends with Clarke. No need for my involvement to be known.”

Abby nodded and got up, walking up to Lexa. The green-eyed girl was surprised when a hand was extended to her.

“You are always welcome in this house, Lexa,” Abby declared.

Lexa took the hand and shook it. “I am not sure I will be using that right in the future though.”

Abby smiled. “If my daughter and you know what’s best for yourselves, you will be back here in no time.”

Lexa nodded but as she was leaving the house and entering her car, chances of getting back together with Clarke felt minimal.

 

****

 

Lincoln put his phone down slowly, the voicemail from Anya finished and awaiting reaction. He looked over at the couch where Octavia sat, making herself small. He shook his head, disappointed above all else.

Lincoln walked over to the sofa and sat down on the armchair beside it. Octavia’s eyes were still trained on the floor; she had certainly received a message from Raven or Clarke informing her of what had happened.

“Explain.” Then his voice softened, “Please.”

Octavia shrugged, defeated. “It’s very simple, actually. Clarke was bored out of her mind. We made a harmless bet. Then I suggested something I shouldn’t have.”

“You suggested?”

Octavia looked up at him for the first time. “She didn’t accept it.”

He nodded pensively.

“Did you not consider the harm it would bring?”

“Honestly? No.” She sighed and chewed on her bottom lip. “You know I’m rash, you know I do stuff without thinking.”

“Some things you cannot do without thinking,” he asserted and took her hand in his. “What you did hurt Lexa very much. And it hurt me and Clarke as a consequence.”

“She was a bitch at the time, okay?!” Octavia exclaimed, yanking her hand away from him. “She isn’t now and you _know_ I love Lexa now but at the time I didn’t and Clarke acted like she hated her too and I thought it would be funny! I never expected Lexa to like Clarke!”

“She was still my best friend, Octavia,” he reasoned gravely. “I love her like a sister and you were willing to play with her feelings.”

“I didn’t think she had feelings,” the girl said before she could stop herself.

Lincoln’s eyes widened. “That is very inconsiderate.”

Octavia buried her face in her hands. “This is not going well,” she let out a muffled whinge, shaking her head vigorously.

He stood up, still lost as to how to react. “You betted on my best friend,” he reproached. “You can’t expect me to just say it’s okay.”

“I didn’t bet on Lexa,” she countered, standing up too. “I suggested the idea and Clarke refused it right away.”

“Lucky you,” he evidenced.

“You think I don’t know that?” Octavia retorted, flopping back onto the couch. “I wish I’d never come up with that stupid idea. And in my defence,” she claimed, holding a finger up, “I dropped it the moment I found out about Lexa’s feelings.”

Lincoln sighed and sat down beside his girlfriend, holding her in his arms. It was not that she needed it; it was that she appreciated it. Octavia Blake needed no one to keep her together.

“I truly am sorry, Linc,” she breathed out against his chest.

“I know,” he soothed. ”But now you need to apologise. To Lexa, Anya, Raven. And help Clarke. She needs you now more than ever. Raven as well.”

She nodded, her face against his broad chest. Octavia Blake needed no one to keep her together, but sometimes she needed someone to help keep her grounded. Lincoln was that to her, her best and most understanding friend.

No one new Octavia the way Lincoln did. Bellamy was her brother, but his point was view was different. Clarke was her other best friend but she, too, had another viewpoint. Raven was Raven.

What mattered was that she had four greatly important people in her life and had hurt three of them. Especially Lincoln.

Lincoln was different. Unique. Special.

“I’m so sorry.”

He leaned away from the embrace and gazed into her blue eyes. “It’s not me you need to apologise to,” he said softly.

“You’re one of them,” Octavia insisted. “Lexa is your best friend so if I hurt her, I hurt you too.”

He smiled adoringly. “I forgive you.”

“Let’s just hope everyone is so forgiving,” she grumbled. “Do you know what happened? Raven didn’t know anything.”

“Lexa didn’t take it too well. I think it’s best you hear the full story from Clarke.” At Octavia’s suddenly horrified stare, he was quick to add, “They didn’t break up. Raven and Anya did though…”

She thought for a moment before speaking again, now with urgency in her voice. “I need to be there for my two best friends.”

Octavia stood up and dropped a kiss onto Lincoln’s lips. Apologies were not an urgent matter, Clarke and Raven were.

 

****

 

**Clarke [13:55]: Meet me at home in 15**

Raven glanced at the message for the nth time since fifteen minutes ago, precisely when she had received it. She had run to the flat, anxious and eager to apologise to Clarke profusely for the whole situation, even if it had been the blonde’s inability to tell Lexa about the bet sooner that had caused all of it in the first place.

But it had been Raven screwing it all up. It had been her. It was her fault.

The door opened just in time and Raven opened her mouth to speak before Clarke even could, knowing that the blonde had a habit of entering the house and starting to rant right away.

Raven clamped her mouth shut when she realised that the blonde in front of her was not Clarke.

Anya sighed and Raven could see through her fake annoyance. There was fear too.

Clarke got in too, standing beside Anya, and for a moment Raven feared the worst.

“Anya, it wasn’t Raven’s place to tell you about the bet,” Clarke started and the mechanic’s fears were soothed. “I should have told Lexa all about it when I had the chance. Raven was just keeping my secret until I decided to come clean.”

The other blonde folded her arms across her chest. “She should have told me.”

“No, she shouldn’t have,” Clarke insisted calmly.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Anya deadpanned. “We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“This wasn’t Raven’s secret to tell,” the younger girl stated. “It was mine. It was my secret. Raven only had to keep it because she knew about it.”

“And I shouldn’t have known about it?”

“Not until Lexa knew. And that is on me.”

Anya chuckled dryly but Raven knew there was hope when their eyes met and the blonde’s were softer than she had expected. Raven suspected that not even Anya had expected such softness to be conveyed into her stare.

Before she could deal with her ex — just thinking it hurt — girlfriend, Raven had a more pressing matter to attend. Namely Clarke.

She turned her gaze to the younger girl, whose eyes were expectant while watching the reunion.

“Clarke,” she spoke and the blonde’s stare found hers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for getting drunk and telling your secret.”

Clarke smiled so lovingly that Raven felt like crying.

“That wouldn’t have even happened if I’d told Lexa first.” Blue eyes shone like the sun, though marred by the slightest hints of tears. “Just,” she hesitated with a chuckle. “Promise you’ll never touch a bottle of wine again.”

Raven laughed and walked the distance between them to hug Clarke.

“I promise.”

“I’ll leave you two alone now,” the blonde said when she pulled away from the embrace.

 

****

 

When Clarke closed the door, Anya’s cutting voice sounded dryly from the flat. “I hope you start telling me all your secrets from now on, even the little shitty ones.”

Clarke chuckled quietly and then her eyes widened, fresh with an idea. She ran out of the building and got in the car, driving into the city centre. Once there, she made her way to the best florist in town.

As soon as she entered the shop, Clarke was engulfed by the fragrance and sight of hundreds of flowers. Now she truly understood why Lexa felt so connected to Nature and the ground.

Clarke knew little about flowers, and what little she knew, Lexa had taught to her. A Google search was not harmful either.

She knew purple hyacinths meant _I’m sorry_ so it was her first choice for the bouquet. She added red tulips. _Believe me_. Primroses. _I can’t live without you_. Pink camellias. _Longing for you_. White chrysanthemums. _Truth_. And finally, Lexa’s favourite flower at the centre: a magnolia.

It might not be the prettiest bouquet Clarke had ever seen, but it was sincere and she knew Lexa would be able to read the story told in the flowers.

Clarke paid for the bouquet and asked to attach a card. After a moment of thought, she asked the cashier to add another one.

Defeated and depressed, Clarke returned home, hoping that the day would go by fast enough for her to forget it. It did not.

 

Clarke had been home for a while, lazing on the couch, when the door opened frantically. Octavia came rushing in, her face clouded by worry and, Clarke noticed curiously, regret.

The small brunette was quick to spot Clarke and launched herself at the blonde, enveloping her in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry Clarke,” the tiny girl wept. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Clarke hugged her tighter. “Don’t be, O. It’s my fault, not yours.”

“Yes it is, I was the one that suggested that stupid Lexa thing.”

“I didn’t accept it,” the blonde reminded her.

“It still made everything worse,” Octavia said sheepishly and broke the hug, sitting on the couch and facing Clarke, unable to look at her.

The blonde took her hands in both her own and heaved a faintly smiled sigh.

“Maybe… Maybe it’s all our faults,” she conceded softly. “Maybe we can’t blame only one person, maybe we’re not all the bad guys here,” she shrugged as her voice broke and tears clouded her vision. “And maybe we all are.” She swallowed and her chin and bottom lip trembled, the tears at bay but threatening to fall at any moment as her heart clenched and pumped every bottled emotion out to her whole body. “You shouldn’t have suggested that extra thing, I should have told Lexa sooner, Raven shouldn’t have told Anya, Anya should have let me step forward and explain everything to Lexa and— and Lexa,” she breathed in sharply, shakily as well. “Lexa is the only I can’t possibly blame.”

Octavia nodded silently and hugged her friend again. They stayed like that for long moments, forgetting the outside world and their regrets.

“I missed my mom,” Clarke confessed in whispers into Octavia’s hair. “I wish I could tell her about this and talk to her. I want to hug her, O.”

“Your mom?” the brunette asked, confused. “Or Lexa?”

Clarke finally sobbed. “Both.”

 

****

 

Lexa got home late that night.

She had decided to have a drink at a local bar to get her mind off Clarke and everything that came along with it. A drink had led to another and another and by the time she was opening the door to her flat, Lexa was swinging dangerously and tangling her feet with every other step.

She had found no answers in the bottom of the first glass. The second had refused her any consoling words too. The third had soothed her nerves with an entrancing song that had kept her entertained until the fourth, which had only brought forth even more frustration. The shatters of the seventh glass of whisky had revealed unreadable too, winning her no more than an order to leave the bar immediately.

It took her a while to see the flowers. When she finally did, she frowned at them for a long while, as if willing them to explain their presence.

It had probably been Anya to make her feel better about ‘the Clarke thing’. However, her sister was not one for that kind of gesture.

So against her drooping eyes and aching head’s protests, Lexa found the little card and squinted at the scribbled words. Whoever had sent it should have been more considerate towards her current state of inebriation.

 

_My first time was with a boy called Connor. I was almost 15._

What the fuck? That was Clarke’s handwriting, but the message made no sense. After some more squinting and fumbling, Lexa ended up finding a second little card.

 

_Dear Lexa,_

_I promise to tell you nothing but the truth. Starting right now. Here are the little things I never told you._

_Love you xx_

_— C_

Lexa’s first reaction was a sappy smile.

But no. Clarke had betrayed her trust. More than half-drunk and snorting, Lexa picked up the bouquet clumsily and walked to the kitchen, where she dumped it crudely in the trash bin.

Half of the flowers were crushed in the process.

 

//

 

_When I was 15 and still in the closet, I insulted a girl who had just come out as a lesbian._

_It didn’t make me feel better._

//

 

_The last person I had sex with before you was Luna. Twice._

//

 

_I came out to my parents when I was 15. Both accepted right away._

 

//

 

_I miss my mom._

//

 

_I miss you._

 

//

 

_My favourite character just betrayed yours. Ironic, isn’t it?_

//

 

_I started the bet to forget Finn. It became a hobby. I had sex with 24 people in total. I don’t regret it. I liked it. Even if I never felt a thing._

//

 

_I think I always had a secret crush on you._

//

 

_I miss my dad every day. It still hurts. It still tears me apart. It still makes me cry every once in a while. What if I forget his face? What if I forget the sound of his voice? The colour of his eyes? What if death really is the end? What if the last time I saw him in the hospital really was the last time I saw him? What if I never see him again? What if I never hear his voice again? What if after this, all that’s left is dust? Was that all the time I had with him?_

_I want to believe in reincarnation too. I like the thought of being able to see my father again. These days, it’s the only thing that helps me sleep at night._

That night, Lexa wavered and called Clarke. She stayed silent as the blonde cried into the phone. They fell asleep in the quiet of erratic sobs and unspoken comfort.

 

//

 

_I’ll confess that I hoped things would return to normal after last night. I was stupid. Just because you’re a great person doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven me._

_Yes, Lexa, you_ are _a great person. Don’t ever forget that._

 

//

 

_My first time with a girl was at 18. Her name was Keenan. It was eye-opening._

//

 

_I’ve never felt so real as I do with you. You make me feel like an angel, Lexa, or a goddess. But above all, you make me feel human._

 

//

 

_I always fall asleep to Sinatra. It reminds me of you._

//

 

_I believe in soulmates too._

 

Lexa looked around her room. Thirteen bouquet, plus the one she was holding. Every single one Clarke had sent, except the first one.

She had tried to salvage it in the morning. It had been in vain.

Lexa pulled out her phone and typed out a text.

 

**Lexa [16:31]: If you keep sending flowers soon I will not be able to move around my bedroom.**

She barely had to wait for a reply.

 

**Clarke [16:32]: That’s the plan ;)**

**Clarke [16:32]: I’m glad you’re keeping them.**

 

Lexa blushed, knowing she had fallen in a trap she’d accidentally set for herself.

 

**Lexa [16:34]: They were reasonably pretty. Would be a waste to throw them away.**

This time, response took a while to come. Lexa became nervous, wondering if she had been too stubborn or cold. Then the phone buzzed again.

 

**Clarke [16:39]: Can we meet?**

Lexa sighed. She had done a fantastic job so far of avoiding Clarke. Quite ridiculous at times, she could admit that, but no less great.

Meeting Clarke would mean making a decision. Lexa was not ready to make a decision.

So she did what any reasonable and mature adult would do. She ignored the text and never looked at it again.

 

****

 

On her side of the line and after waiting two hours for a reply, Clarke sighed. She got the message. Lexa was not ready to meet her.

Okay, she could take that. She could take that. Better that than a blatant no. Better that than meeting and things going south. Better that than meeting and breaking up.

Clarke didn’t bother to ask Raven about Anya. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Her work there was done; it had been two weeks, now it was up to those two to sort things out by themselves. It didn’t help that the mechanic had all but disappeared since their talk.

Octavia had been Clarke’s rock those past two weeks. Encouraging her not to give up, trying to keep her active, not letting her become a house foetus.

Her mother… Clarke had never missed her mother so much. Lexa had been such a filling presence that Clarke had not had the need to amend the burnt bridges with Abby. Now that Lexa was gone, her mother’s absence hurt more than ever.

She missed Lexa. She missed her so painfully, so desperately, it made her rethink everything she had done till then. The pain, tugging on her heart like a drum, made it impossible to string two thoughts without Lexa coming up.

Lexa who was so convinced that she didn’t deserve Clarke when in reality, it was Clarke who undoubtedly didn’t deserve Lexa. She had no idea how she had managed to find someone as wonderful as the brunette and couldn’t quite grasp the idea of losing her. She couldn’t lose Lexa. It was unfathomable, it was impossible, it could not be. A life without Lexa, however many times Clarke got to live it, would be… empty.

Clarke knew she needed some time away from that god forsaken flat, but she couldn’t bring herself to care to leave her couch and go face the outside world. It was snowing anyway, so why even bother?

Just as Clarke was considering maybe leaving her spot, the door opened, forcing her out of her thoughts. Octavia barged in, a determined expression on her face.

“Okay Princess,” she announced, marching up to the couch where the blonde was seating. “I’ve had enough.”

Clarke looked at her, surprised but not really able to bring much expression to her own features.

“You’ve been acting like a fucking zombie,” Octavia continued. “I’m tired of seeing you sulk around like a fat penguin, doing nothing but get out of the house once a day to buy those sad ass flowers.”

“I’m not a fat penguin,” Clarke complained.

“You will be if you keep doing this to yourself. So get your ass off that stupid couch, get dressed, cry in the rain or whatever the fuck and then come back here and rethink your life,” Octavia ordered. “You either fight for Lexa or forget her, but you can’t be in this limbo forever, living like a fucking caveman. Woman. Whatever!”

Clarke shrugged, disillusioned. “Even I want Lexa, she won’t want me.”

Octavia looked at her softly, kindly, understandingly. “Babe,” she said, placing two fingers under Clarke’s chin and lifting it. “She loves you. If there is anything that girl lives for, it’s you.”

Clarke could only shrug again. “She doesn’t want to meet.”

The brunette sighed but did not give up. “Maybe not now, her feelings are hurt. And she won’t take any steps towards reconciliation, that’s up to you now. But you have to decide,” she insisted. “Do you go for it or do you give up? Whatever you decide, you have to stop smelling worse than garbage.”

Clarke nodded, still quite out of reality but not as much as before. She let herself be guided to her room, where Octavia chose clothes for her to wear.

“You know they’re just going to get wet with the snow, right?” Clarke asked, still sceptical.

“Just go take a shower,” Octavia bit back. “You smell worse than Bell’s shit. And you know nothing smells worse than his shit.”

Clarke relented and entered the bathroom, not wanting to ignite the wrath of Octavia Blake.

Twenty minutes later, she showed up on her bedroom door with a towel hugging her body, looking and feeling fresher and cleaner than she had in weeks. Octavia had already chosen an outfit, a white simple black top under a leather jacket and jeans, and was looking at her defiantly.

“Come on. Get dressed,” the brunette demanded. Clarke obeyed and started putting on the clothes. “What are you going to do when you get out?”

The blonde shrugged. “No idea.”

“That’s not the Clarke I know. The Clarke I know always has a plan, as bad as it might be.”

“Well this Clarke doesn’t,” the blonde snapped back, regretting immediately after. “I’m sorry O, I’m just— I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just think.”

A bad idea started to form in Clarke’s mind. “Yeah,” she agreed, not really meaning it. “I guess you’re right.”

 

//

 

Half an hour later, Clarke found herself standing in front of Lexa’s door.

She breathed in and out, in and out, trying to gather the courage to knock. In a wild moment of insanity, she did, knuckles tapping painfully against the rigid wood.

The door opened after a couple of minutes and Clarke’s heart stopped.

Lexa looked good. Lexa looked fresh. Lexa looked clean and strong and healthy. But Lexa also looked sad.

The brunette’s eyes widened infinitesimally for less than a second at the sight of Clarke but she soon slipped her stoic mask back on. Chin rose high.

“Clarke.” The blonde sighed. Her name sounded like music in Lexa’s lips. “What are you doing here?”

Clarke swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I— I wanted to— I don’t know,” she admitted, shoulders slumping. ”Did you get my flowers? Of course you did, you told me so. But did they express how sorry I am?”

Lexa lifted an eyebrow. “Flowers are hardly an apology, Clarke.”

“I know and that’s why I came here,” Clarke salvaged quickly. “I came here to apologise to you personally.”

Lexa remained as unreadable as ever — save for her eyes. Those told a different story. One of pain, one that made Clarke’s heart tighten in her chest.

“Alright.”

Lexa made to close the door, but Clarke stopped it with her foot. When she looked back up, the brunette looked affronted.

“I really want you to forgive me, Lexa.” She confessed, at a loss of what to say. “I don’t want us to be over.”

“We will be what we will be,” Lexa determined, aloof. “I am still thinking.”

“Well— can’t you think faster?” Clarke inquired in an exasperated tone. “I really— I really am sorry, Lexa, please understand.”

“I do understand, Clarke. That does not mean I am ready to trust you again.”

“Then don’t. Not right now.” Clarke could feel herself drawing straws. “Just please get back with me, let’s solve this together, let’s talk this through.”

At last, all the emotions haunting Lexa’s eyes were reflected on her face. Her exquisite green eyes were shining with unshed tears, her lips struggling to remain shut, and she swallowed as was her habit, trying to push down her feelings.

“You don’t have to trust me, Lexa,” Clarke begged. “Just, if you still care about me, then… listen.”

The brunette swallowed once more. “I can’t do that.”

With those words, she took a step back and closed the door, pushing the blonde’s foot with the movement.

Clarke was left alone in the hall, wondering if Lexa had just broken up with her — and how on Earth she was going to repair their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clexa is life  
> Clexa is universal law  
> Clexa is love  
> Clexa is poetry, ever more
> 
> ^ not by me
> 
> Point being: they're stronger than their problems.


	18. the frying pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Clarke,” the woman warned. “Take the frying pan. Fight for what you believe in. Be yourself.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke wonders about hope and Lexa wonders about home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not crazy. That _is_ the name of the chapter.
> 
> Okay, here you go, within less than a week AND complete with a throwback to 10 chapters ago ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it :)

Fifteen days. Fifteen days without Lexa. Fifteen days without the person that she, as much as it scared her, loved. Fifteen days. And she had been dismissed with a mere “I can’t do that.”

 _I can’t do that._ What did that even mean?

Clarke found herself wandering around, lost, nowhere to go or turn to. She ended up outside of the city, in a leisure park, sitting on a bench and watching, but not really, as the children played on the swings.

Hours passed and Clarke did not move, enraptured by the way the naked tree branches swung with the light wind and every child, one by one, was summoned by their parents to go back home for dinner and a warm bed.

She allowed herself a moment of resentment. Those children had two parents to go home to. A full home, a complete family, no shortage of love or care. Clarke only had a mother, a bad one at that.

Those stupid children had everything they needed. Clarke didn’t. Where was her father? Where was Jake, her guardian, her protector, the one that had never once let her down? Where was he? Why did those children have two parents while she only had one? What had they done better than her? What had she done to deserve her fate? What Jake, the kindest of souls, done to deserve his untimely death?

What had Lexa done to deserve losing both her parents? What had Lexa done to deserve being brought up in such a rough environment? Lexa, who had lost both her parents at such a young age and had been brought up in such a rough and mistake-prone environment, and still had grown up to be the most amazing person Clarke had ever met. Lexa, who was the most beautiful, caring, selfless, and tender person Clarke knew of. Lexa, who deserved all the love in the world. Lexa, who was probably better off without her, because Clarke only brought her pain.

 _Stupid children_ , she thought, but chastised herself mentally straightway, because that was not her. Clarke was hope and light and a smile. Furthermore, why canalise her anger towards those innocent children? It was not them that Clarke was mad at. She was mad at herself.

Clarke, who had had happiness in the palm of her hand and thrown that chance away.

Snow started to fall again and for once, Clarke felt in her element. Cold, lifeless, sad snow. She had no idea how some people were so enchanted by it, how children found it so entrancing. It was dirty and rude. Anything but ethereal, how some liked to call it.

Then Clarke remembered how affected Lexa had been by the first snowfall of the year and liked it a bit more. How Lexa had sneezed as soon as the first flock had fallen on the top of her nose and been so indignant at Clarke’s suggestion that maybe she needed to put on more clothes because she was too weak for winter.

“I can handle the cold perfectly, Clarke,” Lexa had said, with a vexed huff.

“Sure you can,” the blonde had laughed, making her girlfriend squint at her and then resume walking looking very offended, leaving Clarke behind to catch up.

A week later, Lexa was in bed with a cold and protesting whenever Clarke said she had told her so. Which she had, though frankly she wouldn’t care so much to say it, if didn’t render some hilariously annoyed reactions from the brunette.

Clarke smiled at the memory and felt just a little bit warmer. Lexa was such a reassuring, warm presence, that she had never even considered the possibility of losing her. It had been so hard to win her in the first place, that she had taken her from granted. Lexa loved her so much that Clarke had thought that was enough.

It wasn’t. A real relationship takes work, Clarke was now finding out. Hard work. She had known to work for it, but now she knew just what it really took. She didn’t mind it, though. Not when it meant she could be with Lexa.

But now… An especially violent gust of wind hit her, pulling her back to reality. Now it was over. Now it didn’t matter how hard she worked, because Lexa was not coming back. Lexa was gone. Clarke had to accept that.

Lexa had been pretty clear in her words, there was no chance of them getting back together. She wasn’t even willing to hear Clarke, to give them a chance. It was over. It was still no easier to accept it.

The walk back home was… uneventful. Painfully slow. Not nearly slow enough. The snow kept falling around Clarke but she felt nothing.

The door to her flat felt harder to push open than ever. When had she become so weak?

Clarke was met by Raven’s concerned expression, ever the good omen — not really. Did she care to ask how were things between Raven and Anya? Did she care enough? Clarke knew that was not the issue, she did care. Was she brave enough to learn that they were doing well, contrary to Clarke and Lexa’s case, though? Was she brave enough to learn that they were still over, another example of how a break of trust was irreparable? Any answer would be an excruciating jab to her heart, yet another pain to weigh down on her.

“How are things with Anya?” Clarke asked without even realising she had done so.

Raven smiled for a second. “We’re working on it.”

Great. At least they were ‘working on it’, whatever that meant. Clarke and Lexa were doing everything but.

“Why are you here, Raven?” she asked and it sounded more hostile than she had intended. Or maybe she had intended that precise dose of tiredness, impatience, and annoyance. “Shouldn’t you be with Anya?”

“Anya had to go on this trip thing,” Raven shrugged. “No make-up sex today,” she joked but seemed to regret immediately after, for her face turned serious and worried.

Oh, Clarke recognised that look. A mix of fear of pity and revealing she was happy to the miserable person in the room. Clare hated that look.

“I’m glad you two are doing well,” she forced herself to smile. Raven saw through it. The pity on her look increased and Clarke swore she wanted to smack her.

“Actually, I was just here to pick some stuff from my room,” Raven started again, “and ended up having to open the door for someone… surprising.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Who was it?”

“If you don’t want to see anyone, everyone will understand, Clarke,” the mechanic insisted and this time the blonde had to control herself not to hit her friend.

Raven was not like that. Raven didn’t do pity. Raven did the “suck it up” philosophy. Why couldn’t Raven by Raven again?

Clarke breathed in, counting mentally to ten. “I will meet whoever is here if you start looking at me like I’m going to break,” she said firmly and felt a bit of herself coming back to her.

Raven lowered her gaze but then returned it to Clarke’s blue eyes and the blonde could see the fire and defiance in them again. “Suck it up, Griffin.”

Clarke smiled widely for the first time in weeks. “That’s my girl.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped Raven in a tight hug that lasted for several seconds.

Clarke had no idea that a simple hug would do her so much good. She felt stronger, livelier, better after it. She felt truly supported.

“Now,” she said when both broke away. “Who is this mysterious person you want me to meet?”

“Hello, Clarke.”

Clarke breathed in sharply, all her good humour seeping away. _Of course._

 

****

 

“Enough, Lincoln! I don’t want to hear anymore about this.”

Lincoln scoffed and shook his head. Lexa would never change. When she set her mind on something, it was hard, if not nearly impossible, to convince her otherwise. Luckily, he was one of the people with best ratio of successful attempts. About 30%.

“You’re being stubborn, Lexa,” he insisted. “Nothing but stubborn.”

“She betrayed my trust,” the girl snarled, interrupting her pacing.

“Just as Raven did Anya’s and Octavia did mine.”

She pointed at him accusatorily. “Don’t even compare, Lincoln.”

He hugged a pillow from the couch he and Octavia shared. “It might not be the same scale, but it’s still the same situation,” he shrugged. “Point is, why haven’t you forgiven her yet?”

“I told you,” she hissed. “Clarke broke my trust.”

“Okay, so she broke your trust,” he acquiesced. “Why not give her a chance to mend it?”

“I am.”

His eyes widened incredulously. “You are?”

“Yes,” she stated obstinately. “I am.”

“How exactly are you giving her a chance to get your trust back?” he echoed disbelievingly.

“I accepted her flowers.”

“Oh,” she nodded mockingly. “What else?”

Lexa was clearly at a loss of words. “Well,” she started and cursed herself mentally for using such a typical Clarke expression. “I talked to her. And I texted her.”

All it took was Lincoln raising his eyebrow for Lexa to unravel in a string of murmured grumbles.

“Look Lexa, I love you but you’re being unreasonably stubborn.” The only reaction he got from her was a murderous glare. He shrugged. “Don’t look at me like you’re going to kill me, you know it’s true.”

“It is not.”

Lincoln sighed. “Listen, you’re right in being angry at her. You have every right to be mad. Clarke hurt you and of course you shouldn’t be expected to forgive her. And more than anything, you don’t have to trust her,” he insisted. “Trust will take long to rebuild. Right now, you just have— I think you should give her a chance.”

“A chance to what?” Lexa snapped.

“A _real_ chance to win your trust back.”

“What if she breaks my heart again?” she asked and Lincoln could see fear in her eyes. It was a new and almost overwhelming experience for him; he had never seen such thing before.

“Well that’s the thing about love, isn’t it?” he smiled. “You give someone your heart and trust that they won’t break it.”

“She already broke it once,” Lexa contended, resuming her pacing.

“Then the chances of doing it again are lower.”

“You know the math does not work like that,” she rolled her eyes. “One is not closer to winning the lottery every time one plays.”

He smirked. “If Octavia were here, she would growl at you to get your head out of your ass and go after the woman of your dreams before it’s too late.”

Lexa stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Lincoln shrugged and stood up. “I know deep down you want Clarke back. Don’t give her a chance to give up on you.”

Lexa clenched her jaw and breathed in and out, deep in her thoughts, leaving an expectant Lincoln waiting for an answer.

In his opinion, she should give her girlfriend a chance. Clarke had been wrong to keep the bet a secret from her, but one couldn’t expect everyone to be able to open up at the same time. And Lexa… Lexa needed Clarke more than she would ever care to admit.

Lexa raised her chin and took a deep breath, jaw still locked. She stared down at him, the usual superior and commanding look in her eyes.

“No.”

 

****

 

Clarke steeled her stance and gazed at the woman in the room. Of course that was the only thing missing. After Lexa leaving her, all that was missing was Abby making an appearance to make her life even worse — and there she was.

“Mom,” she acknowledged simply and coolly.

Raven took that as the cue to excuse herself, leaving mother and daughter alone to talk.

Abby stepped forward tentatively. “Clarke.” She rubbed her hands in her thighs, mustering up the courage. “I came here to talk to you. About everything.”

“That’s a bit vague,” the girl answered not even a second later, her demeanour colder than ever.

Abby lowered her gaze for some seconds before returning it to Clarke’s own blue eyes. “Mostly I came to apologise.”

The reveal hit Clarke like a wall. Her eyes widened and she couldn’t disguise her shock and surprise.

“Y— you came to apologise?” she repeated in disbelief.

Abby sighed. “I have been thinking about our recent disagreements and came to the conclusion that I haven’t been in my best behaviour.” Clarke’s raised eyebrow made her lose all reluctance. Abby’s voice then became fully honest. “Clarke, I… I love you so much and I realise now that I was pushing you away,” she confessed. “All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness, I promise you that, but I was forcing you to follow my idea of your happiness, instead of your own.”

Clarke’s cold stance crumbled and her eyes became an open book, wide and expectant to hear more of that apology.

“In that desire to see you happy, I made you precisely the opposite. I was never home, I worried about our reputation more than our well-being, I started fussing over trivial things when the most important person in my whole life was right in front of me, falling apart.

“I forced you to major in Political Science when you clearly hated it,” Abby continued. “I never respected your art. I kept pushing you to do better than perfection. I disrespected your friends and especially your girlfriend, who so clearly, blatantly loves you. Worst of all, I kept comparing you to Jake when truthfully,” she walked up to her daughter and took her face in her hands, lips trembling and determined eyes shining with fresh tears, locked onto blue pools of anticipation. “I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become.”

A sob escaped Clarke’s lips and she threw her arms around her mother’s waist, holding tight like she had never had a chance to do so in her entire life. The two Griffin women stood like that for a few minutes, Clarke crying and letting out the occasional sniff and sob, Abby doing only slightly better in containing her tears and stroking her daughter’s hair dotingly.

“I’ve missed you mom,” Clarke sobbed, holding her mother tighter. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh baby,” Abby’s voice was as maternal and tender as ever. “I’ve missed you too.”

Clarke buried her face deeper in Abby’s hair. “I think Lexa broke up with me.”

“I’m so sorry sweetie,” the older woman kept caressing golden hair. “But don’t worry, I’m here now. We will talk about that later.”

The girl nodded, almost numb from all the emotion running through her and honestly just glad to have her mother back. Things weren’t perfect all of a sudden, certain wounds would take a long time to heal. But having her mom back in her life, talking to her, laughing and crying with her, and simply being there for her, made Clarke happy like she had not been in weeks — and that was all that mattered now.

 

****

 

Lexa needed to blow off some steam. Looking for answers in the mirror of a whiskey had clearly not worked out for her, so she returned to her origins.

She laid her bag on the bench and changed to her training gear, all dark just as she liked it — and was feeling. She left the locked room, making sure to bring her gloves with her.

The gym was empty at that hour, all hers to use and go crazy about. She had wanted to bring Clarke there once, to experience the gym late at night and how it felt to have it all for themselves. She had wanted to teach Clarke how to pack a punch, how to spar, how to do a lot of things that she would probably never get a chance to teach the blonde now.

Lexa put on her gloves and moved to one of the beanbags. _Classic_ , she thought, remembering all the movies where the conflicted protagonist knocked their feelings out onto a beanbag.

Lexa wasn’t there to be creative, anyway. She just really wanted to punch something.

She wasn’t one for flare and spectacle. Lexa had a complex personality but her ways were simple, never needing to put on a show. The only show she put on was her writing and that was not going to help her right now. If she dared pick up a pen and her notebook, the pen would undoubtedly end up pierced through the small leather-bound book.

What she needed was release. She could actually find that Finn lad and punch some sense into him. It would certainly feel good to do it.

However, knowing that it would certainly land her a lawsuit and Clarke would probably not be too happy about it, Lexa had to settle for boxing. Imagining his face in the beanbag wouldn’t hurt either.

Clarke. With every blow, something new flashed before her eyes. The golden hair, the mesmerising blue, the beautiful smile, the mesmerising laugh, the kindness, generosity, humour, and one of the many other qualities of her girlfriend.

Girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend? She didn’t even know. Clarke’s name seemed to be hissed every time Lexa’s fists cut the air, confusing her even more.

Hours passed as she threw more and more punches, her arms grew weaker and her knuckles started to bleed. She couldn’t stop though. If she allowed herself to stop, even for a second, Lexa would see her, hear her, smell her, taste her, touch her, feel her. It was too overwhelming a feeling to drown in, so she kept on going.

Easier to bear the pain in her body than that of her heart.

Her arms were increasingly tired nonetheless and with each dealt blow, Lexa felt her strength seeping away. But she shouldn’t, she couldn’t, she _wouldn’t_ let herself feel again. Not until every single one of her ghosts was pressed into the leather of the beanbag, wasted and crushed beneath the power of her bloody fists.

Only then would Lexa allow emotion to return, because then she would be too spent to feel a thing.

A missed punch launched her forward and Lexa hit her body hard into the bag. Too weak to get grip on it, she slowly slid down the length of it and fell on her knees, hitting the floor with a harsh thud.

Lexa’s arms fell on both sides of her and she found she didn’t have any energy left to move them. Her head, heavy with painful thoughts, bobbed forward along with the curve of her body, making her look like a scrap of a woman. Lexa was out of breath and yet, her breathing was heavy and broken, fragile and stumbling out of her throat in shaken quakes of her chest.

That was how Anya found her half an hour later, when she returned from her trip. Anya always knew where to look for her sister when she wasn’t home.

The blonde girl ran to the brunette and kneeled on the floor next to her, enveloping her in a silent embrace. Anya was never one of big consoling moments but was quick to react when such thing was needed.

They knelt like that for hours, tired and hurt, silent and broken. Lexa didn’t know and didn’t care whether the drops falling from the tip of her nose looked like sweat or tears. She knew them to be the former. Anya would never comment on it anyway.

 

****

 

“So tell me about Lexa.”

Clarke sighed. They were in her kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner, and after a rather long talk, all they wanted to do was eat and relax. Clarke was getting everything ready to cook while Abby sat on a stool at the counter.

“There’s nothing much to say, mom,” she tried to sound nonchalant. “I betrayed her trust. It’s over.” It clearly didn’t work, because Abby stared at her sceptically with a lifted eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re giving up?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I am not ‘giving up’,” she emphasised her point with air quotes. “I can’t help that it’s over.”

“How is it over?” Abby asked while her daughter entertained herself with looking for pots and pans.

“Lexa broke up with me.”

“Did she say the words?”

Clarke stilled and looked at Abby, out of answers for that question. “Well, not— She didn’t say the exact words,” she admitted, quite confused. “But she was clear in her intentions.”

“What intentions?”

Clarke tersely put the frying pan in her hand down. “God, mom, stop asking all those questions! You’re beginning to sound like Raven.”

“Clarke, be careful with the pan,” Abby chided. “You will end up making a dent.”

The blonde lifted the pan to look at its bottom and grimaced. “Shit. Already have.”

Abby sighed and got off the stool, walking around the counter to take the pan from her daughter’s hands. She looked at the huge dent and shook her head. “Let me handle this. Do you have another one?”

Clarke scratched the back of her head. “Not that I rec— oh,” she remember. Well that one was not an option.

Abby perched her brow. “Oh?” she echoed.

Clarke heaved a reluctant sigh. “I’ve got another one. But it’s Lexa’s.”

“So?”

“Did you not hear what I said, mom? It’s _Lexa’s_.”

Abby huffed and walked past her daughter, reaching for the cabinet where the pans were stored. She took out the only frying pan there and extended it to Clarke. “Take it.”

The girl shook her head firmly. “No.”

“Clarke,” Abby warned. “Take it.”

“You don’t understand, mom. Nothing I do will help me get Lexa back. She doesn’t want me. She probably doesn’t even love me anymore.” Clarke could feel the tears forming in her eyes. “We — what we had… It’s over.”

Abby stared at her disapprovingly. “This is highly unlike you, Clarke,” she scolded. “My daughter never turns away from a fight. My daughter never gives up.”

“Your daughter spent all of college without her mother’s love so I can’t really expect you to know her that well,” Clarke answered coldly. She knew it was a low blow, but to protect her own feelings, she had to attack her mother’s.

The way Abby looked at her, utterly unaffected by her words, told her that the woman could see through her feeble attempt at deception. She _was_ her mother after all and knew her probably better than Clarke knew herself.

“Clarke,” the woman warned. “Take the frying pan. Fight for what you believe in. Be yourself.”

Clarke breathed in sharply and gazed at the utensil in Abby’s grip like her whole life depended on it. She nodded and firmly placed her hand on the handle alongside her mother’s. Abby smiled.

 

****

 

That night, Lexa came home to a new bouquet of flowers. They were different, more hopeful, more cheerful, more direct. After some seconds of appreciating their beauty, Lexa read the card.

 

_I still have your frying pan._

Lexa frowned. That was unexpected. She slipped out her phone and typed a quick text.

 

**Lexa [23:43]: You can keep the frying pan.**

As usual, Clarke’s reply was fast.

 

**Clarke [23:44]: No I can’t. It’s yours**

**Lexa [23:45]: Not anymore.**

**Clarke [23:45]: Uh yes it is. And it’s the only one you have**

**Lexa [23:47]: I can get a new one. A better one, that will last longer and not burn my hands whenever I touch the handle.**

**Clarke [23:48]: You love this frying pan**

**Lexa [23:49]: It is not trustworthy.**

**Clarke [23:50]: But you love it**

**Lexa [23:51]: Love sometimes is not enough, Clarke.**

Lexa sent the last text and waited some minutes for a reply. It never came.

She got ready and then slipped into bed, thinking about what Lincoln had told her earlier. He was a romantic, an idealist. Lexa was a realist. Unlike him, she was able to see the bigger picture. And yet, as she kept her eyes closed but sleep refused to come, Lexa couldn’t keep his words at bay.

She sat up and threw her legs over the edge of the bed, propping an elbow on it. Her face hid in her hand. She couldn’t — she shouldn’t — forgive Clarke. That was her modus operandi. That was her way ever since Costia — trust no one.

Love was weakness, she had forgotten that for a moment and then reality had come crashing down on her, waking her from a blissful dream she should have never even dreamt of.

And yet…

And yet, Clarke had come rushing in like she always did, glowing, stunning, laughing that crazy beautiful laugh of hers, smiling like the sun. Grasping Lexa’s hand like that was the way it was supposed to be and taking her on a walk around the world of wonder and madness and love.

Love was not only weakness, it was madness too. How could Lexa be so willing to contradict all her philosophies just for a smile? Just for a touch? Just for a kiss?

And yet…

And yet, even now that she was fully awake from her dream, Lexa could feel her pull, singing to her, whispering in her ear a soothing song of forgiveness and getting back together. Reciting poems of coming home.

She took her notebook from under the bed, grabbing the pen that was always attached to it, and thought of something, anything, that might get her mind off of Clarke. _Home_.

(That really was not the best idea.)

The pen hovered over the blank paper, waiting on a call to start scribbling words. Eyes shut, Lexa forced it against the page and wrote the first thing that came to her mind. Her wrist moved for some seconds and she opened her eyes. Not the best idea indeed.

Frustrated, Lexa tossed the notebook away and threw herself back, falling arms wide onto the bed. What was home? Lexa had always thought she had no home and yet, all she could think of in association with the word ‘home’ was Clarke.

In a moment of madness — that was the only plausible explanation she could think of — Lexa reached for her phone, which was sitting on her bedside table, and let it come back to life with its blinding light. Her fingers moved of their own volition as she typed out a new message.

 

**Lexa [00:21]: You are not my frying pan**

****

 

Clarke woke up to her phone bleeping and groaned. Not now, Octavia. Knowing she had only been at the beginning of her night anyway and could fall back asleep easily, she took her phone from the bedside table and dared unlock it. Its light flooded the room.

Blinking and half blind, Clarke saw the name of the sender: Lexa. She opened the text and read it. Her breath caught in her throat.

 

**Lexa [00:21]: You are not my frying pan**

 

On the brink of tears, Clarke let out a laugh with a hint of a sob and read the words over and over again. Lexa still believed in them. Lexa still had faith.

That was all she needed to close her eyes again, now with a relieved and elated smile on her lips, and fall back asleep.

 

****

 

December 21

 

Lexa knew she should get out of the house, but when Anya had dragged her out of bed at the ungodly hour of 3am saying they were going out for a drive, Lexa had all but wanted to kill her.

“You need to get some fresh hair,” Anya had commented in her deadpan kind of way.

“I can get fresh hair at any time of the day,” Lexa had argued.

She must not have been convincing enough, for one hour later, there they were, driving out of Polis in the middle of the night and in complete silence. Anya let out the occasional grumble, whereas Lexa would try and fail to stifle a yawn.

“Where are you taking me?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, star nerd, the solstice is happening today at five something.” Lexa’s interest awoke along with her body at the reminder. “So I’m taking you to see it because if your moans last night were indication enough,” Lexa felt her ears turn crimson red, “you really need to get your mind off blondie.”

“Her name is Clarke,” she returned with annoyance.

“Oh don’t worry, last night you made sure I wouldn’t forget that,” Anya quipped with a smirking curl of her lips.

Lexa didn’t succeed at keeping her cheeks cold. “Do you want me to talk about you and Raven and your make-up sex?”

Anya laughed. “You mean how good in bed I am?” she steered the wheel, taking a way out of the highway Lexa knew very well. “Got her screaming my name all night long.”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do that you scream her name as much as she does yours.”

All that earned her in return was a middle finger.

They drove for a while longer in silence, Anya still mumbling almost unintelligibly about stupid twinkly stars not being reward enough for driving Lexa’s sorry ass around a fucking haunted forest or whatever the fuck that abandoned place was.

Lexa shook her head with amusement. Anya, ever the class act.

“Thank you.”

The blonde’s head whipped around, turning to Lexa with a frown. “For what?”

The brunette spoke reluctantly. “For trying to make me feel better.”

Anya snorted and returned her gaze to the road ahead. “You can thank me later.”

Lexa decided to close her eyes and doze through the rest of the way. Only a few minutes, granted, but she wanted to shut out the light and her eyes to get used to the dark so she would be able to see a lot of the night sky as soon as she got to her sacred place.

After some minutes, their car finally pulled to a stop and Anya killed the engine.

“We’re here, short stack.” Lexa didn’t bother open her eyes as the older girl stretched over her side to open the door for her. “Come on, get the hell out of my car.”

“One more minute,” Lexa requested.

Anya then shoved her towards the door and Lexa finally obliged, stepping out of the car. She looked over at the sleeping city and then up at the night sky, beautiful as ever, and opened her mouth to thank Anya again for taking her there, her favourite place in the world. To her surprise, the blonde closed the door for her and locked the car. Lexa knitted her eyebrows together.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Anya grunted and started the engine.

“You don’t get paid at all,” another voice sounded in the night and Lexa turned around abruptly.

Her heart somersaulted at the view. Clarke. She had missed the sight of her and the sound of her voice and the silkiness of her touch.

“Clarke.”

Behind her, the car started backtracking and left within seconds. Lexa felt trapped and not at all, like it was only natural for her to be there alone with Clarke. Even if that was absolutely not her intention.

She shouldn’t, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. Or maybe she would, because there was no way to escape. And maybe she could, because Clarke was _there_ , and she was so beautiful in a white shirt, and Lexa could feel herself gulping without even meaning to. And maybe she should because what was wrong with a little talk? What was wrong with stepping just a bit closer, looking just a bit lower, falling just a bit deep—

No. She shouldn’t.

“Lexa.”

Clarke stepped closer (and when had Lexa taken a few steps towards the blonde?), looking sheepish, nervous, and absolutely stunning. That was not news, though, Clarke always looked stunning. Dressed in white, she looked like an angel. Lexa felt her mouth dry and her brain screamed at her to step back. She could not bring herself to do so.

“I just… I just want to talk,” Clarke whispered, and Lexa noticed she could hear her perfectly.

(When had she stepped even closer?)

Lexa’s tongue instinctively darted out to link at her lips and she chastised herself mentally for it, as it gave off the wrong impression. She could not stop looking at pink lips and if her heart could just _stop_ doing that inconvenient thing where it beat faster without her permission, it would be really great.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk,” she confessed hesitantly and her eyes flickered down to Clarke’s lips once again. Her body was not helping her case.

“Lexa, please,” the blonde all but begged, and Lexa’s heart beat just a little faster. It was not fair, what Clarke could do to her chest and the bottom of her belly and many other parts of her body just by changing the tone of that beautiful raspy voice of hers.

Lexa nodded curtly, still entranced and entirely forgetting how to breathe. When had being in Clarke’s presence become so overwhelmingly hypnotic? Always, she realised, but a separation of almost twenty days was causing all the usual sensations to come rushing back.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Clarke started in a small voice and Lexa had to resist with every fibre of her body the urge to tuck two fingers under that adorable dimpled chin and lift it to make the blonde’s blue eyes meet her own. “I don’t expect you to forgive me now or in the near future,” the girl sighed. “I just really am sorry that I put you through all this pain, or any pain at all.”

Lexa could feel her features soften and forced herself to hold on to her stoic mask.

“I might be a hypocrite, Lexa, but I’m not a liar. From now on, I promise to always tell the truth and to never keep a secret like that from you,” Clarke continued and her gaze lowered even further. “If you give me a chance, that is.”

This time, Lexa couldn’t control herself and her fingers found the blonde’s chin, lifting it and searching for the bluest of blue eyes with her own green ones. She found them, shimmering brighter than the stars, and her heart clenched.

“I don’t expect you to trust me again either,” Clarke resumed, urged on by the silent softness of Lexa’s green gaze. “I know the saying,” she chuckled ruefully. “Years to build, seconds to destroy. But if you give me a chance…” Her eyes hardened with determination. “Damn it, Lexa, if you give me a chance, I swear I’ll do everything to win your trust back.”

Lexa lowered her gaze; she had no idea what to say. Instead she gave a slight nod and hummed softly.

“Please don’t make me leave you to deal with it all by yourself,” Clarke pleaded. “I’m not asking for trust or forgiveness, I’m just asking you to let me help you carry the pain. Let me be by your side and live through this with you. Because I love you, Lexa, and I want to be with you every step of the way.”

Silence fell upon them and Lexa knew it was her turn to either take a step forward or two steps back. She loved Clarke. She wanted her, she desired her, she yearned for her, she sought for her, she thought of her, she missed her, she ached for her, she grieved her, she… She needed her.

Lexa did not just love Clarke; she needed her. She needed Clarke to be with her and share her every experience and tell her about her day and listen to Clarke talk about her day and share her happiness and help her carry the pain. She needed to feel Clarke’s presence and love even if it still hurt her.

Lexa needed to grow up and out of their current situation not alone, like she had thought, but with Clarke. Relenting, she sighed and met the blonde’s loving gaze.

“Waiting for my trust in you to be rebuilt is not a plan. It’s a prayer,” she admitted. “Together, however, we can work and learn to trust each other again.”

Clarke’s eyes widened and turned bluer than Lexa had ever seen them, shining bright with hope and unspoken gratitude.

“Does that mean…?”

Lexa took Clarke’s hand and pressed it to her heart, placing her own hand on top of the blonde’s. “It means that I want you by my side. It means that we will work together and find a way back to each other’s trust. It means I have not forgiven you yet but choose to let myself one day forgive you. It means my trust is still broken and will not be mended so easily, but I am willing to let you try.” She smiled softly just as a small drop of rain fell on the tip of her nose. “All in all, it means I want you back and I cannot bear to be away from you another minute. I love you, Clarke. And I need you.”

Clarke sniffed and wiped a wandering tear away. “I need you too, Lexa. And I love you even though I probably shouldn’t after not even two months.”

“Do you not remember, Clarke?” Lexa chuckled. “Apparently people fall in love by the end of the three minutes.”

Clarke cupped the back of Lexa’s neck and pulled her in slowly, giving her all the time in the world to step back. Instead, Lexa bridged the gap between their lips, returning to her safe haven. Returning home.

Three minutes.

Lexa no longer wondered.

It had taken her that much to fall in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two to go! :0
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for all your wonderful comments, you're the ones keeping me going!


	19. the living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Indra hates me,” Clarke complained.  
> “She does not.”  
> Clarke grumbled something unintelligible and then, “She likes Octavia more than me.”  
> “I like you more than Octavia,” Lexa smirked, handing the other woman a plate.  
> The blonde snorted. “You better.”
> 
> or
> 
> Clarke meets Indra and Lexa collects a debt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!!!! I'm so sorry for the huge delay, it was a good ole case of creative block. And I WAS going to post this yesterday, but my connection went down around 9:30pm and never came back up :(
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this chapter ^-^ the title will make sense towards the end.
> 
> Tbh I spent the better part of the last two weeks debating whether or not to include a bit of smut in the chapter — and where it would fit. Read to find out if it's there :p

Forgiveness was relatively easy. It came only a month later, flourishing and smiling and happy, with a kiss to the lips and a night of rediscovering each other followed by many more of getting to know every inch of one another’s body again.

Trust, just as Lexa had warned and Clarke had expected, had been a slower wound to heal. It had not yet even healed, it seemed, and Clarke was starting to wonder when it would — and if it would at all. Four months had already flown by and Clarke could not see the end of it.

Still, there Clarke was, standing in front of Lexa’s former home, ready to meet the woman that had taken her girlfriend in and given her a future. Lexa must have sensed how nervous Clarke was, because she laced their fingers together and gave the blonde’s hand a light squeeze.

Right there and then, Clarke forgot her worries and focused on that small smile on plump lips that always made her heart skip a beat. She remembered how happy she was, sharing her life with the amazing woman by her side, and fear no longer weighed her down.

Clarke smiled back and Lexa nodded, ringing the bell. Mere seconds later, the door opened to reveal a dark-skinned woman with the straightest pose Clarke had ever seen with piercing eyes and a scowl that looked absolutely terrifying.

“Indra,” Lexa greeted with a nod.

The older woman looked at both girls and her gaze lingered on Clarke, unbearably heavy. Then she stepped aside and opened the door wider.

“Come in.”

 _First mission accomplished_ , Clarke thought. _She let me in_. Lexa glanced at her reassuringly and tugged at her hand, leading the both of them in. Clarke swallowed, feeling Indra’s burning stare on the back of her head. Great.

Clarke stopped in the middle of the room and extended her hand to Indra, who eyed it sceptically. “Hi, I’m Clarke,” she greeted with the most dashing smile she could manage. “Lexa’s girlfriend. It's a huge pleasure to meet you.”

Indra kept staring at her outstretched hand, looking utterly unimpressed. After some incredibly awkward seconds, Clarke withdrew it. Beside her, Lexa shook her head and heaved a tired sigh.

“Clarke has been my girlfriend for almost six months, Indra,” the brunette said stiffly. “I would appreciate it if you made her feel welcome.”

Indra rolled her eyes but her glare on Clarke finally softened marginally. “Hello Clarke,” she said in a monotone voice, and then returned her interest to Lexa.

Clarke was confused by the older woman’s reaction. Had she not liked her? Had Indra really not liked Clarke? How was that even possible? Everyone loved Clarke, she was beautiful and charming and had a smile that lit up the room. Anya had not liked her at first either, but she had deemed Lexa’s sister as the exception that confirmed the rule.

Clarke shook those thoughts away. Lexa’s remained stiff and controlled as she made small talk with her second mother.

Clarke noticed their relationship was… formal, for lack of a better word. Still, there was no shortage of love, she also realised as the conversation progressed. Indra worked hard to hide it, but could not help the occasional tight-lipped smile of pride over all that Lexa had accomplished.

Clarke immediately liked her a bit more for that — they had something in common. Still nearing the end of her major, Lexa already had several job offers from highly respected employers and it made Clarke’s heart swell with pride, even if they were all from other parts of the country.

Clarke had told her from the beginning that she would not accept being the reason Lexa did not follow her dream. The brunette had agreed partly but countered with the claim that her dream was Clarke as much as political science, even more so. Still, she had insisted that Lexa think well about her next move.

Clarke, in turn, had decided to apply to Med School and was expecting to be accepted into the one in Polis, one of the most respected in the country. That way she could be close to Lexa and her mother and friends, as well as follow the career path she truly loved: medicine. She wanted to become a doctor and help people like her father who had little to no hope in survival to believe in a second chance and hold on to some sort of lifeline. She wanted their stories to have a different ending than her father’s.

Abby had decided not to run again once her current mandate as Mayor ended, and instead go back to her medical career. It allowed her to spend more time with her daughter and the fact that it was her true passion was obviously a nice bonus.

The bell rang and Indra excused herself to go open it. Meanwhile, Clarke turned to Lexa and leaned forward into her body.

“I can’t believe you wanted to invite my mom,” she commented with a smirk, dropping a gentle kiss on Lexa’s jaw.

“I don’t see what would have been so wrong with it,” the brunette complained stubbornly.

“Babe, no,” Clarke chuckled. “My mom being here would have increased the awkwardness tenfold. Believe me, you wouldn’t want tonight to be even more uncomfortable than it already is.”

“But your mother loves me,” Lexa pouted.

Clarke rolled her eyes. Ever since they made up, Abby had been much more receptive to Lexa and the brunette would never miss a chance to covertly brag about it. Which usually amused Clarke — except for today, because it was painfully clear that Indra had not taken much of a liking on her.

“Indra will love you too,” Lexa added, as if she had read the blonde’s mind.

“Lexa, she scowled at me just two minutes ago.”

“She let you in,” the brunette pointed out very seriously. “Believe me, that alone is a great victory.”

Clarke preferred not to ask what that meant exactly, and didn’t have time to anyway, as at that moment Lincoln and Octavia entered the room with Indra in tow. The older woman had a letter in her hand.

“This arrived yesterday for you,” she told Lexa, handing her the letter.

Clarke watched on as Lexa took it with a frown, reading the back of the envelope, and immediately stacked it in the inner pocket of her jacket. She approached the brunette.

“What is it, babe?”

“A bill from the vet,” Lexa shrugged it off. “Nothing important. Just another thing to pay on top of all my expenses.”

Clarke was not stupid and could immediately see that was a lie. She understood, but was also starting to get annoyed at the fact that Lexa still did not trust her.

“Okay,” she said carefully. “So what is it really?”

Lexa looked at her in surprise, but then her expression softened. “I will tell you,” she promised. “Now is just not the time.”

Clarke nodded, entirely more satisfied. “Just— please do? And don’t try to fool me again because I see right through you,” she leered.

Lexa turned to face her, so that their fronts were almost pressing against each other, but not quite. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear and then kissed her forehead gently. “I will.”

“I love you.”

Lexa simply smirked and walked away towards the newly arrived guests. “Octavia,” she greeted with an outstretched hand. “Good to see you again.”

The small brunette scoffed. “You saw me this morning, Lexa.”

Clarke chuckled and shook her head, waiting for Anya and Raven’s arrival.

As if on cue, the bell rang. Indra was quick to open it. Just like she had done with Clarke, the women looked down at Raven, who in turn shot her her best challenging look.

“You are late,” Indra deadpanned.

“Raven had a doctor’s appointment,” Anya defended herself and her girlfriend.

“Can’t look this beautiful without changing the oil sometimes,” Raven quipped and Clarke smirked behind Indra’s back.

She heard a huff and a grumble and a second later the older woman was turning her back on the couple at the door, leaving them to do the entering by themselves. Anya shrugged and pulled Raven by the hand into the apartment.

“How’s your leg?” Clarke asked as soon as the mechanic approached her.

“Hello to you too, Griffin,” Raven jeered.

“Blondie doesn’t do manners, does she?” Anya intervened, and Clarke could have sworn those two women were one and the same person. Maybe that was why they fit so perfectly together.

“I know you were dying for me to ask that question, Reyes.”

The other girl shrugged with a grin. “The leg will keep on being a bitch but I’ll keep on being an even greater bitch and not letting it get in my way.”

Clarke smiled proudly. If it weren’t for the obvious brace and light limp, no one would ever notice Raven Reyes had a bad leg. For years now, she had succeeded _with_ it, not in spite of it — and Clarke couldn’t help admiring the brave and strong woman her friend had become after a rather arduous early period of coming to terms with her physical difficulties.

“Who else is coming?” Raven asked, looking around for their other friends.

“Bell and Echo,” Clarke answered. “And Emori is bringing some new boyfriend of hers.”

“I hear it’s some bad boy.”

“I hear it’s John Murphy,” Anya chimed in.

“Who? The asshole?”

“He’s not that bad,” Clarke vouched for him. “Once you get to know him he’s actually… almost decent.”

“Who is almost decent?” Lexa asked, coming to stand next to Clarke.

“Murphy.”

“I have met worse people,” the brunette agreed with a nod.

“You know you’ve failed in life when the greatest compliments people can give you are ‘he’s almost decent’ and ‘I’ve met worse people’,” Raven jeered.

Clarke and Anya laughed, while Lexa allowed herself an amused smile. Again as though on cue, the doorbell rang and Indra strode to open it.

Emori and her beautiful, bright smile stood outside of the apartment, left hand clasped with Murphy’s right. Clarke finally understood what Lexa had said before, as a full five minutes passed before Indra begrudgingly let Murphy into her home.

“I think Indra might love me after all,” she jibed in Lexa’s ear, causing her to smile.

“She certainly stands your presence,” the brunette replied with a smirk. “I would not put it past her to like you. Love is still an existential impossibility.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the words of encouragement.”

“Anytime.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Not unlike you.”

Slender fingers wrapped around Clarke’s wrist and pulled her to the couch, where both girls sat down beside one another.

“And here I thought you were in love with my charming personality,” Clarke grinned brightly.

Lexa feigned surprise. “Who told you such outraging lies, Clarke?”

“This girl called Alexandria. Don’t know if you know her,” the blonde said, her elbow gently nudging Lexa’s ribs.

The brunette shook her head. “Never heard of her.”

“Good.” Then Clarke lowered her voice as though she were telling a secret. “Because she’s sort of an ass.”

Lexa smirked, pretending not to have heard it correctly. “Did you say she has a great ass?” she whispered back, and the blonde grinned. How had Clarke come to love this woman so much?

“That too.”

 

****

 

Octavia was peacefully doing her business in the bathroom when the door suddenly opened, revealing a very serious Lexa who just walked in like it was the most common thing in the world, startling the small brunette.

“Shit— fuck— Christ, Lexa, you can’t just barge in while someone’s peeing!”

“You are not peeing,” the older girl deadpanned. “I can smell it.”

“Just get out?!” Octavia exclaimed in disbelief.

“No.”

“Why not?!”

Lexa rolled her eyes and everything about her was so damn _superior_ that it annoyed Octavia to no end, but also sort of made her want to be like the older girl. Truthfully, she actually liked Lexa a lot.

“I have come to collect.”

“Collect? But collect wha—“ The younger girl’s eyes widened impossibly. “You’re the grim reaper! I _knew_ you couldn’t be that scary without a reason, Raven owes me fifty bucks!”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, staring at Octavia like she was crazy. “As much as I would love to do it,” she clarified with a serious expression but eyes filled with amusement, “I am not here to kill you. I am here to collect your debt.”

It was Octavia’s time to squint. “What debt?”

“To Clarke,” Lexa replied simply. “If my memory serves me, you promised her that if she slept with me, she would automatically win your silly bet.”

“She refused it.”

“And I am accepting it.”

“You can’t do that,” Octavia snarled from her compromising position.

Lexa took a step forward, towering over Octavia and the toilet. “Yes I can.”

 

****

 

Lexa was washing the dishes while Lincoln and Octavia, who had to leave early, bid their goodbyes. She didn’t need to look to be aware of Indra holding the tiny brunette’s forearm as a sign of respect. The moment she heard the apartment door close, Clarke entered the kitchen with a low groan.

Lexa smiled as the blonde walked up to her, resuming her task of drying the dishes.

“Something is bothering you, Clarke,” Lexa noted almost needlessly, for she knew that her girlfriend would tell her anyway.

“Indra hates me,” Clarke complained.

“She does not.”

Clarke grumbled something unintelligible and then, “She likes Octavia more than me.”

“I like you more than Octavia,” the brunette smirked, handing the other woman a plate.

The blonde snorted. “You better.”

“Pauna likes you more than Octavia too.”

“Pauna likes me more than _you_ like me,” Clarke teased with a chuckle.

Lexa simply smiled, not giving her the pleasure of a reply.

“I like Pauna more than I like you too,” the blonde teased again.

“I would not expect any differently.” Then Lexa looked around to check that no one was hearing her. “Anya likes you more than Octavia too,” she whispered. “But don’t tell her I told you this.”

Clarke laughed and placed a light kiss on Lexa’s cheek. “I won’t.”

“You know who _also_ likes you more than Octavia?”

“Raven?”

Lexa giggled at the assumption. “Yes, but not who I meant.” She waited for confusion to plaster itself on Clarke’s face before daring open her mouth again. “My bed.”

The blonde wiggled her eyebrows and Lexa knew right away she was in for some adventure. “My bed likes you more than O too,” Clarke reassured. “Which reminds me that there’s someone I’d love to introduce you to.”

Lexa frowned at the new piece of information. Was it a new offer from some prestigious med school? Was it someone Clarke had met through Abby and knew would appeal to her girlfriend?

“Who might that be exactly?”

Clarke grinned devilishly and Lexa’s heart jumped; it still did so after six months and she knew it would continue doing so for the next sixty years — and more. “Well my mom happens to be out of town for a whole week and I remembered that you’re still not acquainted with my childhood bedroom bed. It would be nice if you two met.”

“Clarke, I don’t think—“

“It’s a king-sized bed and the most comfortable mattress you’ll ever lay eyes on,” the blonde cut her off before she could even refuse.

Lexa stared at her with wide eyes for long seconds, the water running and a soaked plate in her still hand.

“I think we should leave immediately,” she muttered.

“No, we should finish this first,” Clarke laughed. “I don’t want Indra hating me even more than she already does.”

“She does not—“

“Lexa.”

The brunette nodded stiffly and started working faster than ever, still dumbfounded and, if she were being honest with herself, already thinking of all the ways she could take the most out of Clarke’s king-sized bed.

 

****

 

Clarke didn’t know about gods and goddesses and she had a hard time believing in such a thing as fate. However, waking up that morning and seeing the way that the sun bathed her lover’s sleeping features, seeing her so peaceful and carefree, simply waking up next to her — it was hard not to thank destiny or whatever powerful deities there might be for it; it was hard not to attribute it even a little bit to that unfathomable concept called fate.

It was hard not to fall hopelessly in love yet again.

After all, how could she not love Lexa? How could she not fall in love a little bit more, a little bit new, with her everyday? How could she gaze at those kind and all-feeling green eyes or see that beautiful little smile and not feel her heart flutter knowing it was all directed at her?

Clarke Griffin loved Lexa Woods so much it almost hurt to think about it.

Lids over jade eyes stirred and soon a sleepy smile was forming on the blonde’s lips. “Hey babe,” she greeted groggily, her husky voice as happy as it was sleepy.

Lexa smiled and lean forward to peck the blonde’s lips. “Happy six-month anniversary, Clarke.”

Clarke was suddenly much more awake at the mention of the special date. She sat up and reached for her bedside table, opening a drawer and taking a small remote control.

“I have a present for you.”

Lexa sighed into her pillow. “We said no gifts, Clarke.”

The blonde looked at her with a sceptical raised eyebrow. “Like you didn’t get me something too.”

The brunette’s face was lifted off the pillow as she smiled. Lexa sat up cross-legged, facing Clarke, and kissed her shoulder. “Only because I knew you would not follow the rule,” she defended herself with a smirk. “And I was right.”

The blonde glared playfully at her. “Okay so we can both forget the gifts, give them back, and enjoy this day and all of eternity without them,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

Lexa rolled her eyes and moved to sit behind her girlfriend, and her arms snaked around Clarke’s waist, pulling her closer. The blonde sighed at the brunette’s warmth and leaned against her bare chest as Lexa’s chin rested on her shoulder.

Lexa made her feel safe, and she knew that the feeling was mutual. Each felt like home and safety and familiarity to the other and they shared an understanding no one else did, and again — a sense of fate, like they were destined to be together. And maybe they were, Clarke found herself musing, for what they felt was something that could not have been built up or created in one lifetime alone. It was cheesy, Clarke knew that, but it felt like a love that had grown over many generations.

“Some time ago,” Lexa spoke finally, the opening and closing of her jaw a massage on Clarke’s right shoulder, “you said I had so much colour.” She paused and Clarke felt soft lips kiss the skin over her shoulder blade. “But I constantly feel like black and white. And then you touch me,” both breathed sharply in, everything about them in perfect sync, “and all the colours sip right in, and it’s like I live in Technicolor again. A single touch from you feels like a drop of paint turning all my greys into a dream of colour and happiness.”

Clarke found one of the hands on her stomach and held it tightly. “It doesn’t have to be a dream, Lexa.”

Another kiss on her shoulder and this time the shape of a smile as well. “I know. It started a dream and you made it reality.”

Clarke found that to be the perfect time and clicked the on and play buttons on the remote. _Strangers In the Night_ started playing and Lexa’s chin lifted from the blonde’s shoulder to follow the sound.

Clarke giggled at her girlfriend’s surprise. “I installed a set of five columns some days ago, connected to a digital record player.” She turned slightly in Lexa’s arms, only to find the brunette’s smile wide with overflowing love. “Happy six-month anniversary, babe.”

Her smile widened impossibly when Lexa gifted her cheek with the most tender of kisses.

“I love you so much, Clarke. You have no idea.”

The blonde’s right hand came up to stroke Lexa’s cheek as she peered into earnest green eyes. “Yes I do.”

Clarke turned to face Lexa, legs wrapping around the brunette’s waist and arms circling her neck. She captured Lexa’s lips in a kiss and both women lost themselves in it for some minutes.

Lexa finally pulled back, gently holding Clarke’s lower lip between her teeth, letting it go as she leaned against the headboard of the bed.

“I believe it is time I give you my present,” Lexa announced solemnly and the blonde smiled at her endearing formality.

Lexa leaned over her side of the bed, and seemed to search for something with her hands. She must have found it, as a minute later she was sitting up again, Clarke still in her lap, with a white envelope in her hand.

“First of all,” she started, keeping the envelope out of Clarke’s reach, “read the letter. Then we can focus on the rest, which is the actual gift, but I thought I would show you this now.”

Clarke nodded and grabbed the envelope as soon as it was within her reach. She opened it and from it took a letter, unfolding it and reading it from start to finish without saying a word.

_Dear Alexandria Woods, it is with the utmost pleasure…_

She squealed and threw her arms around Lexa, holding her tightly and peppering kisses all over her face and neck while the brunette giggled. This was what she had wanted ever since they had started thinking about their life after their majors.

She finally relented after several minutes and leaned back, taking in the wide grin and look of utter bliss on Lexa’s face. It seemed to take some seconds for the brunette to collect her thoughts and finally clear her throat.

“We had talked about how this would be the perfect option, personally as well as professionally, with neither of us having to sacrifice anything for the other or our careers,” she said softly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “And here it is, a late offer from Trikru Inc., the most prestigious political investigation centre in the country, _and_ only ten miles away from Polis.” Lexa paused for some seconds and her eyes met Clarke’s with renewed intensity. “I wouldn’t be able to stand being away from you, Clarke. But I know you wouldn’t be able to stand thinking that I had thrown away a great career path for you. This— this is everything we dreamed of.”

“This is what Indra gave you yesterday,” Clarke recalled and the brunette nodded. “I thought you didn’t want to show me because you didn’t trust me.”

Instead of responding, Lexa took the envelope from Clarke’s hand and slid out the second part of the present.

“This is actually not mine,” Lexa smirked as she handed it to Clarke. “It’s from Octavia.”

The blonde held it in her hands, befuddled. “Why did Octavia give me a flower-scented piece of toilet paper?”

Lexa chuckled and turned it around, revealing Octavia’s messy handwriting. “Read it.”

 

_Dear Clarke: I, Octavia Blake, solemnly swear to do your laundry, clean your house, and pay for all your drinks for the next nine months._

 

“Octavia refused to go with a year as originally planned, because apparently she had already withdrawn the offer,” Lexa deadpanned disapprovingly.

Clarke laughed at the note, realising it was about the bet, and pulled the brunette into a searing kiss.

“You’re amazing,” she breathed out when their lips parted.

“Octavia is afraid of me,” Lexa commented with a self-satisfied smirk. “So is Raven, according to her.”

“They’re all afraid of you,” Clarke laughed as she stroked the brunette’s cheek.

Lexa frowned. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No, because _I_ know you’re just a big, soft, puppy-eyed ball of sap.”

That earned a pout from the brunette. “I am not a ball of sap, Clarke. And my eyes are definitely not akin to a puppy’s. And I am most certainly not soft.”

Clarke couldn’t contain a shit-eating grin from playing at her lips. “Sure, Jan.”

Before Lexa could enquire her about the use of a name that was not hers, the blonde joined their lips together and all complaints died before they even reached the brunette's lips.

They kissed for a few more minutes, until Clarke broke contact and contemplated the square of toilet paper. That pink, flower-scented piece of paper was much more than a simple light-hearted joke. She rested it against Lexa’s chest, holding her adoring green gaze with her own loving blue eyes.

“This,” she started, quite unsure of what words to choose. “This is you telling me you trust me again, isn’t it?”

Lexa smiled dotingly and stole a chaste kiss from Clarke’s lips, which the blonde leaned into and almost got lost in before the brunette stopped it herself.

“I have trusted you for a long time, Clarke,” Lexa finally declared with the utmost sincerity in her soft voice. “I might not have told you, but I started trusting you again much sooner than I ever expected. I simply could not fathom the idea of letting us be ruined by such a petty thing when I knew that despite that incident, I _could_ trust you.” She smiled after a beat. “Life is short, Clarke. It is made of fleeting moments. I didn’t want to waste so many of them on not giving myself to you completely.”

Now it was Clarke’s eyes that were shining with not yet fallen tears. In order to keep them from sliding down her cheeks, she focused on the actual gift. She opened the envelope again and found a key along with a note.

“Anya moved in with Raven and I know you go crazy hearing them have sex every other night,” Lexa chuckled, “and you already spend most nights at mine anyway. This is just a nice way of making it official.”

Clarke smirked. “Are you asking me to move in with you, Lexa Woods?”

“Sort of.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “For the time being, yes. Now open the note.”

Clarke did as told and found Lexa’s neat handwriting inside it:

_Coupon: half of a new apartment._

 

Clarke giggled but then raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Half? And how do you intend to have the money for it?”

“An investor wants to buy the gym, keep me in charge,” Lexa shrugged. “They already made an advance payment. It should be enough to pay for half of a new flat.”

“Lexa, a new flat is expensive,” Clarke frowned with concern.

“I know, Clarke,” the brunette nodded seriously. “We are only six months into this relationship but I already know, or hope, that we will spend our lives together. We should wait,” she admitted. “After all, as much as we love each other, six months is too short a history to be jumping into buying something this big together. But I believe we will one day and that money is already saved for it. For now though,” she smiled her little smile that made Clarke’s heart sing, and gently took the key from the grasp of the blonde’s fingers, “will you move in with me?”

Clarke grinned blissfully and her lips met Lexa’s passionately. “I will,” she murmured into the kiss, and grabbed the brunette’s shoulders, pulling her away from the headboard and pinning her to the bed. Her hands trailed up and down Lexa’s sides, nails scraping against smooth skin. She captured Lexa’s lips once more with a scorching kiss.

Lexa broke the kiss momentarily with the widest grin Clarke had ever seen her wear. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

It was easier, faster, and altogether more satisfying when both were already naked. No clothes to shed, no barriers, nothing to delay them on their journey back to each other's bodies, to revel in and climax the connection that they knew was like no other.

Clarke dragged her lips over Lexa's tanned skin, nibbling and leaving red marks of possession all the way from right beneath her chin to just over her mound, gliding over her arched neck, between her precious breasts and over her navel, making the brunette's eyes flutter shut.

She made her way back up Lexa’s body, this time stopping to give her breasts some attention. She kissed each of the rosy hard nipples, eliciting a soft whimper from plump limps that were begging for a kiss, and sucked at each of them tenderly, her tongue lapping around them.

She pulled herself up with her elbow supporting her weight, capturing Lexa’s lips in her own, and her fingertips brushed over closed eyelids, compelling them to reveal beautiful jade eyes that at last took her in with the most awestruck expression she had ever seen, making her shudder.

Clarke’s hips thrust into those of the brunette as they started a grinding rhythm, and she wondered how it was possible that the mere sight of Lexa so pliant and aroused beneath her was enough to push her closer to the edge.

As she leaned away from the kiss, Lexa’s teeth grasped her lower lip, sending shivers up and down her spine. Her free hand travelled between their joint bodies and found its destiny, two fingers resting flat against the brunette’s drenched folds, making her hips buck up against her own. Just feeling her girlfriend’s arousal was enough for a moan to tear up Clarke’s throat and fill the swollen air.

How was it that she was the one giving pleasure and yet, she was also the one breathing so heavily she feared she might just fall over her lover’s body, ready to be taken like only Lexa had ever known how to take her.

But it was her turn now; it was her turn to give while expecting nothing back, and as some distant song played out of the speakers, Clarke’s lips brushed over Lexa’s cheek to the side of her head and whispered sweet nothings into her ear that pulled a quiet gasp out of pink full lips and made the body beneath her own squirm with anticipation.

She left a trail of kisses over the brunette’s neck, nibbling at her throat and her lips pressing against her pulse point, eliciting a high-pitched whimper.

Clarke kissed her way down Lexa’s body, in awe at just how beautiful it was and how their forms seemed to fall together into place like two pieces of a puzzle. Lexa, the harsh and commanding Lexa, was a yielding nymph under Clarke’s touch.

Instead of heading directly to Lexa’s throbbing core, the blonde took her time, kissing Lexa’s hips and then her thighs and finally inside them, eliciting soft gasps from the brunette.

“Clarke,” the woman breathed out, her voice almost non-existent. “Please…”

Clarke smirked and complied, dipping her head between Lexa’s widespread thighs and dropping the softest of kisses on her clit. Lexa’s hips bucked, her body and her mind yearning for another touch.

Clarke pinned the brunette’s body back to the mattress and threw long, tanned legs over her shoulders, allowing for better access. She dared a look up and her gaze locked with Lexa’s mesmerising green eyes that had widened in expectation and darkened tenfold. She smirked and bowed her head again to focus on Lexa’s centre, rejoicing in how wet the brunette already was.

She dropped languid kisses on the inside of Lexa’s thighs, nipping at times, only for her tongue to immediately dart out to soothe the pain. She pecked her way towards her goal tortuously slowly, basking in Lexa’s squirming impatience and ragged breathing.

“Clarke,” the brunette practically _whined_ and the blonde knew it was time to relent. “Just—“

Lexa was cut off by her own sharp moan, as Clarke’s tongue lapped over her folds and finally gave her everything she was yearning for. A curse escaped her lips and her hips bucked up on their own volition, something Clarke took full advantage of to repeat her previous ministration, now slower and deeper.

Clarke smirked at the effect her tongue had had and chanced a glance up at her girlfriend. She was taken aback by the sight: Lexa propped on her elbows, arched torso and head thrown back, eyes closed and lips parted by heavy exhales and a moan she was trying too hard to conceal. Her breasts were bare and her nipples hard, her toned abs clamped around shaky, deep breaths. Clarke’s heart burned in her chest at just how beautiful the woman she loved was.

Focus back on her current (not at all arduous) task, Clarke dipped her head and enveloped Lexa’s clit within her lips. The loud gasp that escaped Lexa’s lips was music to her ears.

She gently sucked at her girlfriend's clit only once, not wanting to get Lexa all worked up too fast. Then the tip of her tongue described painstakingly unhurried circles around it, drawing increasingly hasty breaths from the brunette. Her hand come up and around a thigh to rest over Lexa’s mound and, as her mouth abandoned its place, teeth teasingly grazing over the clit, her thumb resumed the gentle massage on the small organ.

Meanwhile, her tongue lapped once again over Lexa’s folds, then twice and thrice, then still and teasing at the brunette’s opening, making her let out gasps and whimpers of desperation.

“Clarke,” Lexa choked out her plea, with no strength to speak.

The blonde raised a teasing eyebrow and smirked. “Yes, Lexa?” she asked in a low, sultry voice.

Lexa gulped, almost coming undone from the sound of her lover’s voice alone. “Inside.”

Clarke did as told. Without forewarning, her tongue slipped inside Lexa’s opening, tasting velvety walls around herself and drawing out a loud moan from the brunette’s parted lips.

“Fuck,” Lexa gasped out, sending a rocking shiver down the blonde’s spine.

Clarke’s tongue kept thrusting in and out, pace low at first but intensifying with every passing second, as did Lexa’s growing shudders and whimpers and the rhythm of her canting hips.

Her thumb pressed and kneaded and drew unrelenting circles against Lexa’s clit, and it wasn’t long before the brunette’s moans started rising in volume and frequency.

Clarke increased the rhythm of her thrusting tongue, pushing deeper each time, and curling it inside to press at Lexa’s most sensitive spot. She could feel the brunette’s muscles clench around her tongue, their warm silky touch pulling her further inside.

Lexa’s walls started fluttering and tensing abruptly and repeatedly, clenching tightly around the tongue inside them, and soon her grip on the sheets tightened impossibly, her hips rolling in a frenzy as irrepressible shudders took over her and an orgasm tore through her body. Clarke stilled completely and moaned along as she felt Lexa’s climax ripple all around her tongue, and her ears were flooded by a burning cry of her own name, the clicked ‘k’ thumping like a storm into her chest.

When Lexa’s shuddering subsided and her breathing became steady at last, Clarke withdrew her tongue, lips covered in the brunette’s glistening and heady taste. She freed her shoulders of tanned thighs and climbed up the body beneath her, finding a dark-eyed Lexa gazing at her with gratitude and a new form of hunger.

Their lips clashed and Lexa finally tasted herself, sweet in the blonde’s swollen lips and tender tongue. Clarke was sure that it would take no time at all for her to go over the edge if they continued kissing heatedly, so she slowed the pace, making it lazier, gentler, softer.

Lexa fell flat on her back onto the mattress, taking deep breaths, still not fully recovered from her ride and release. She smiled that tiny smiled that filled Clarke’s heart with happiness and wrapped her arms around the blonde’s waist, pulling her onto herself.

Clarke rested on Lexa’s body, head on the brunette’s chest and her own breathing accelerated, and chuckled huskily. “I’m so glad we get to do this often.”

Lexa smirked as Clarke propped her chin on her tanned chest, gleeful blue eyes locking with serene green ones. “I had never seen a bed this big, Clarke.”

The blonde laughed and kissed the skin over Lexa’s heart. “We could have one of these in our new apartment,” she suggested teasingly.

Lexa’s wide-eyed nod left no room for doubt. “We should.”

Clarke took one of Lexa’s hands, intertwining their fingers. They remained silent for long minutes, simply enjoying each other’s company, and Clarke rested her head back on Lexa’s chest as the brunette closed her eyes.

She could see her future with Lexa — she could not see it without her. Marrying, maybe kids, a house. More than that, spending the most important moments of her life with the woman that had opened her eyes to love and life itself.

She knew everything would not be sweet and happy and beautiful. There would be fights. There would be tough moments, hardships, times when both might feel like giving up. But she wanted to be there for all of them. She wanted to live them, feel them, experience them. Those were the times that made the quiet and happy moments so much more valuable. Those were the times that made her want to hold on to Lexa firmer and more strongly than ever and never let her go.

Doubts would sometimes arise, she knew that, but they would all be crushed by their certainty. She had no idea what would happen in the future; however, she was absolutely sure that she wanted to live it with Lexa.

More minutes laced with silence passed and Clarke took comfort from her girlfriend’s stable breaths, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She dared close her eyes, in kind with the brunette. After some seconds, her own breathing was as peaceful as the other woman’s. They fell into a silent rhythm, tangled in one another; each knowing and rejoicing in the fact that they were the other’s rock.

“Where do we go from here?” Clarke asked, breaking the quiet.

Lexa did not open her eyes. “We live.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go take a cold shower, ya pervs.
> 
> (also, I always wrote Raven with her injury in mind, but this was the only chapter where I felt the need to actually mention it because she never did anything before that required it)
> 
> This is the last chapter of story. The next one will basically be an epilogue, which is 90% written already, so it will be posted quickly ;)
> 
> As always: leave your thoughts below, I always love reading them <3


	20. the soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An existence with no war, no death, no betrayals, no responsibilities. An existence where maybe, someday, is right here, right now.
> 
> or
> 
> Clexa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... it's the final chapter (more of an epilogue). Before you read on, I'd like to thank you all for your comments and kudos and every review, from the compliments to the constructive criticism, everything. You've made me grow as a writer and especially a fanfiction writer and I am so, so grateful. Thank you.  
> Your kind words were my greatest motivation to finish this story.
> 
> Okay, last chapter. Here we go:

It will be twenty-two years tomorrow.

Clarke still wonders how she thought she was in love with Lexa Woods all those years ago. She laughs to herself.

That wasn’t love.

This is.

People mistake passion for love all the time. That burning ache you feel in your chest when you see the one you care about, the butterflies in your stomach, the incessant need to kiss them and hold them and taste them is not love. It’s passion.

Love, despite what poets have told us, is not the fire that burns without being seen. It is not the wound that aches without aching. It is not an all-consuming flame.

Passion is an all-consuming flame.

Passion keeps you awake at night, thinking about the one you cannot stop thinking about.

Passion is counting the hours till they’re back.

Passion is fire.

Love is home.

Clarke learned that on the fourth year anniversary of her and Lexa’s relationship. The day she decided to propose.

Apparently, Lexa had been ahead of her, for the morning after a diamond was on Clarke’s ring finger.

Lexa is often ahead of her when it comes to feelings, as weird as that may sound.

Lexa is the stoic one, the brooding one, the one that will sigh and roll her eyes at your every sentence. She isn’t supposed to be the feelings one.

Yet she is.

She was the first one to fall in liking and then in love. She was the first to talk about moving in. She was the first to look for an apartment. She was the first to realise truly what love is. She was the first to buy an engagement ring. She was the first to look for an apartment. She was the first to want a puppy.

Clarke was the first to want kids.

Tris, Aden and Jake are their names and Clarke loves them. They are her home.

Yes, love is home.

Love is kissing her in the lips and feeling natural and safe. Love is hugging her and being overwhelmed by a wonderful sense of familiarity. Love is fighting in another room so the kids won’t hear. Love is a routine that you never get tired of. Love is having a surge of passion and feeling the butterflies in your stomach when she comes back after being on a business trip for several days. Love is walking the dog early in the morning even though it’s her turn because she is still sleeping. Love is finding comfort in the everyday things but also taking some days or just a night off their family and having some undisturbed couple time. Love is refusing a job offer because it would take too many hours of your day and you want to be able to be there for your family as much as possible (besides, Clarke already makes more than enough money and the difference wouldn’t be that significant). Love is feeling limp when she’s on one of those business trips and you have to take care of the house and the kids and the dog (soon to be dogs if Lexa gets her own, which Clarke is fondly sure she will) all by yourself. Love is looking at your family and being proud of what you have built with your wife. Love is letting yourself be taken by burning passion again when the kids are in bed and you feel and taste each other once more (even that passion seems more passionate now than what Clarke felt at the beginning of it all). Love is cuddling asleep on the bed and everything feeling in place. Love is fate and soul mates and second nature and fighting through the hard patches. Love is passion but also so much more than that. Love is everything, your wife especially, feeling home.

Love is Lexa.

 

Clarke still talks through movies.

Clarke is still the worst driver in the world.

Clarke is still stubborn as all hell and allergic to deep conversations.

Clarke is still loud and annoying.

Clarke still sometimes feels not enough, but that’s okay because Lexa is there to hold her and pour her whole heart into the endlessly repeated but eternally significant, “you’re more than enough for me.” Lexa selfishly likes those moments because the way the blonde calms down at those simple words makes her feel special and the luckiest person in the world.

Lexa is still Clarke’s safe haven.

Clarke is still Clarke.

 

Lexa still practices martial arts.

Lexa is still a secret lover of everything mopey.

Lexa is still stubborn as all hell and a life lesson dispenser.

Lexa is still silent and annoying.

Lexa still doesn’t smile too often, but that’s okay because each one of the small lopsided tilt-up’s of her lips feels special and earned and Clarke’s only to see. There is now another world-stopping smile for their children, but the original one, the one that had the blonde fall for Lexa in the first place, is still just Clarke’s. Selfishly or not, Clarke is happy that she doesn’t have to share it with anyone else.

Clarke is still Lexa’s safe haven.

Lexa is still Lexa.

 

“Alright Tris, we are trusting you with your siblings.”

The brown-haired and green-eyed girl, who clearly has Lexa’s genes, crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Her brunette mother always wonders how it is possible that Tris acquired so many of Clarke’s mannerisms when she doesn’t have any genetic connection to the blonde.

“Gosh Mom, I’m eighteen,” the girl says with annoyance. “I think I can handle it without you going all formal mom on me.”

Clarke stifles a laugh but still earns a glower from her wife.

“Like you handled your driving test?” Aden chimes in with a serious expression and a lifted eyebrow.

The blonde-haired and blue-eyed fourteen-year-old boy’s genes are easily traced back to Clarke. Now the personality, and that has always puzzled both his moms, is so Lexa it’s scary.

Clarke carried both Tris and Aden. The boy’s case had caused some heated discussions between the couple before the decision, as Clarke had been frustrated that Lexa wanted no part in the baby’s conception. However, the moment she saw the brunette lovingly hold the new-born in her arms and look at her wife, daughter and son like they were the most precious creatures in the whole world, Clarke knew right away why that had been Lexa’s will.

As Lexa explained later, she had wanted Clarke to feel like a mother completely. The blonde understood her wife’s motivations, though she was glad she had made sure that Lexa was a part of the previous baby’s conception.

Tris might have been conceived by the brunette’s eggs and carried in her uterus, but Aden completely has Clarke’s genes instead (and pregnancy, as it was always out of the question).

Tris raises her hands and looks to the sky in exasperation.

“Won’t you ever let that go?” she groans.

Aden huffs. “Not as long as it serves as leverage.”

A small child, only seven years old, shows up rubbing his eye with one hand and a big stuffed raccoon in the other.

“You leaving, mammas?” he asks in his childlike, sleepy voice.

Clarke crouches down to his level and hugs the tiny boy in a lion onesie.

“Oh Jakey, you’ll be just fine,” she says softly, earning an adoring smile from Lexa’s lips. “Mamma Lexa and I will be gone for just three days and you will have Tris who is practically an adult—“

“I am an adult, Ma.”

“— _practically_ an adult,” Clarke resumes, emphasising the adverb, “and Aden who is here to help you guys so it’s like you have two mommas all over again.”

“You’re better mommas than they are,” little Jake replies very seriously and again, Clarke can see Lexa reflected upon their children. “And Aden is a daddy.”

With Jake though the influences are on a par, as he was adopted. He inherited Lexa’s natural scepticism and Clarke’s expansive nature.

“Well we are your actual mommas so that is quite natural,” the brunette intervenes. “But Tris and Aden will be good to you.”

Jake seems to ponder on his momma’s words and finally nods after a while. “Okay.”

Mission accomplished. Lexa picks her and Clarke’s bags off the floor and turns to her daughters.

“Tris, we are counting on you to hold the fort and keep things running smoothly,” she says.

“Gosh Mom, it’s not like you’re going to war, is it?”

“Gosh Tris, it is not like you almost burned our house down once, is it?” Lexa sasses back with an arched eyebrow. Tris looks down in embarrassment and her mother turns to Aden. “Aden, please help your sister, will you?”

“Mom, I think it has already been established that I am the most responsible of the five of us.” Clarke scoffs and Aden corrects his previous statement, “Alright, four. Mom is the most responsible. Ma is probably the least.”

Clarke gasps again, feigning hurt. Lexa just shakes her head with a sigh.

“Anyway,” she presses with annoyance. “I know you will not be able to have a lot of fun this weekend. But victory stands on the back of sacrifice and by sacrificing—“

“Okay, your Mom is obviously an overdramatic sap and wannabe warlord,” Clarke interrupts with a laugh. “But what she means is behave yourselves, don’t take drugs,” she earns a ‘ew, Ma!’ from the kids, “don’t open the door to anyone — be it Obama, The Queen or even the Pope — and _please_ don’t burn the house down. Also, don’t throw any parties. And don’t forget to feed your baby brother. And we love you Tris, even with your little mishaps. Summing it all up: pretend you understood whatever Mom lectured about and listen to me instead.”

Clarke grins at Lexa, who blushes immediately. “What she said,” the brunette mumbles, looking down at her feet.

Clarke laughs heartily and throws her arm around Lexa, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek. Lexa smiles that little smile that is only for Clarke and places a peck on the blonde’s lips.

Tris makes an exaggeratedly disgusted expression, whereas Aden rolls his eyes. Jake just giggles.

“We love you guys,” Clarke grins fondly at her children.

Lexa takes her wife’s hand in hers and smiles too, that upturn of the lips that is only for the three rascals. “We love you the size of the world.”

Tris jumps to Lexa’s arms and Aden hugs Clarke, leaving Jake to grab one of each mothers’ legs. The couple holds their children’s embraces.

“We love you too,” Tris speaks out, her voice slightly shaky, chin on Lexa’s shoulder and eyes forced shut.

“What she said,” Aden agrees, burying his face in Clarke’s neck.

“Mammas!” Jake whimpers in a slurry voice.

Clarke and Lexa look at each other and smile.

 

//

 

It is their second night of their couple getaway, the day of their twenty-second anniversary, and they are as in love now as they were at the day of their wedding.

Clarke thinks now that maybe she always did love Lexa, right from the day she officially met her. Perhaps even from the day she laid eyes on the brunette.

It might not have been _love_ love, but it was a kind of love already. Like two interwoven souls finding each other for the first time. Like the pilgrim coming home after years and years wandering around the world.

Like it was fated that they would fall in love after being their whole life apart.

Lexa believes in reincarnation and over the years, Clarke has secretly begun believing in it too.

If not for destiny and reincarnation, how else can she explain the way she feels like she has known Lexa for longer than each have lived and she will keep on loving her wife for many lifetimes past this one?

Maybe they have been in love for several existences, maybe since the very beginning of time, sometimes finding one another, sometimes losing sight of each other; sometimes their love meeting a happy ending, sometimes ending in tragedy.

Maybe their spirits will keep dancing around each other for many millennia to come. Right now, she’s just glad their current story is one of the happy many.

She will leave further dwelling for a lifetime where their love cannot be, so that their future selves can hold on to hope for a happier existence. An existence with no war, no death, no betrayals, no responsibilities. An existence where maybe, someday, is right here, right now.

While Clarke thinks all of that might be true, Lexa is absolutely certain.

She cannot believe in a world where she only gets a meagre lifetime to be with Clarke. She cannot believe in a world where they meet, love, and then everything turns to dust.

She doesn’t. She believes in — and _knows_ — a world where she has loved, loves and will love Clarke Griffin till the end of time.

Their glasses clink in a toast, the sound reverberating all around the cottage on top of the Alps, the perfect romantic getaway for a couple in love since they met.

Lexa finds Clarke’s blue eyes and knows that she has loved the blonde since before they even met.

“You know,” she says, taking Clarke’s hand and rubbing her thumb on its knuckles, “sometimes I catch myself thinking and I come to the conclusion that my life was incomplete and I never really lived until I first laid eyes on you.”

“You’re such a sap,” Clarke laughs. This is the woman that still writes poems about everything, only now most of them are effervescently happy.

“You love me just like that,” Lexa replies and flashes that smirk that still makes Clarke’s knees weak after all these years.

The blonde turns pensive, her too playing with Lexa’s fingers. She strokes the brunette’s cheek with her free hand.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Lexa says and locks her deep green eyes on her wife’s wonderful blue ones.

Clarke looks down and smiles, almost sheepishly, memories and dreams and the now stroking a smile into her lips.

“Twenty-two years that we’ve been together. I wouldn’t change a thing.“ She gazes back into the brunette’s eyes. “Would you?”

“Yes,” Lexa answers and smiles again at Clarke’s beautiful frown. “I would have met you sooner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand it's over. Thank you all so much for the wonderful ride, I loved every single one of your comments, y'all were the ones that kept me going. More fics will come soon, don't worry. I hope it ended in a pleasant way :)
> 
> Leave kudos and all your thoughts below, I'm a slut for comments :p

**Author's Note:**

> Leave your comments and stuff below :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr with the same name, come talk to me and kick my bum for writing such idiocies:
> 
> 100hearteyes.tumblr.com


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